Fire and Ice
by LadyAvatar
Summary: One banished prince. One feared Fire Lord. One red string of fate binding a young waterbender's destiny to each. In a Zutara epic that moves beyond love, beyond fate, we begin with nothing more than a simple question: What if Zuko joined the team following "The Chase?" But when you change one thing, you change everything.
1. Introduction

**Important update: It looks like I have finished the time-consuming medical school application process with fabulous results (a merit tuition scholarship to a top 20 medical school!). Thank you so much for everyone's support during this long process. However, my profile page still contains the ****update section regarding progress through upcoming chapters that I originally started because of the unpredictability of updates during these past few months. Reviews are love, inspiration, and motivation.**

What you have read ten thousand times in the past: fabulous Zutara fanfictions that snag moments from the canon show and expound on them, small breaths of hope for a shipping that sank as deeply as Zuko's ship in the first season. I am a long time stalker, first time writer, and have enjoyed most fanfictions it's been my pleasure to read—and I will continue to read all of the talented, insightful work to be found on the site. But what I have noticed in my three years here is that rarely does a fanfiction do more than pick at the bones of the onscreen canon for the little Zutara meat there is, or else it will simply begin at the conclusion of the show and essentially disregard the absolute Kataang implications that were clear at the end of Sozin's Comet.

This fanfiction will not disregard Kataang, or Jinko, or Maiko, or any of the other shippings that, however briefly, marked the lives of key characters in the show. Nor will this story focus on a brief exchange of snark, a night sitting outside a tent, or an embrace as the springboard for a Zutara shipping.

This journey into the Avatar world will attempt to do something else entirely.

Here we begin with a moment, too, but not just any moment. _The _moment. The moment that, had it gone a little differently, would have happened early enough in the show to still have enough time, over the course of the events that followed, to direct Zuko and Katara's affections toward one another. I refer to the conclusion of "The Chase," wherein Team Avatar offers Zuko help and is rejected by a brutal "leave." Erase that one word (or else have the team insist on caring for Iroh), allow Zuko to join the team then and not wait until "The Western Air Temple," and we have another story entirely.

This is that story.

Rest assured, this will be an epic like few others. It will certainly be a long-haul journey for all of us, writer and readers and characters, but a journey well worth the effort. This will be a fanfiction told in nine overarching parts subdivided into ten chapters each for a total of ninety chapters (plus this introduction and a conclusion). The first six parts are set during the war and the final three in its aftermath. These nine parts follow a lovely poem by Robert Frost called "Fire and Ice." Each stanza will correlate with a key moment, image, theme, or idea that prevails across the span of the chapters the given stanza represents. Together we will journey across a desert and into Ba Sing Se, be captured by the Fire Nation and befriend an unforeseen ally, be betrayed by the family we fought to protect and saved by an enemy we once despised. There will be sinking ships (real and love-wise) and Fire Lord tears—and not the young future Fire Lord you think I mean.

With luck, this story will change your perspective on Zutara because it will do something very interesting: create a Zutara story from scratch, a Zutara that doesn't ignore but embraces Kataang, one that struggles and comes very close to not making it. And in the end, it will be a death that determines the fate of this shipping. Not the death you expect. Not a death that, were I to tell you now just who is going to die, you would ever think you would mourn. But this story is going to change all that. You'll cry for people you thought you hated. You will hate people you thought you loved.

At least, I hope so. As you read the story and enjoy it (or don't), please leave whatever feedback is on your mind. My goal is simple: to weave a good tale and take you on a fun trip. It'll be nice to know how close I'm coming to meeting it.

May the spirits guide us all,

~LadyAvatar


	2. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 1

The young firebender kneels beside his uncle and pours tea from a small cup across the old man's lips. The tea steams in the evening cold, and a little excess runs in two trickles into Iroh's graying beard. Zuko's shaking hand sets down the cup, but he goes on kneeling. Iroh has yet to stir in the three days we've been watching him. His nephew has yet to leave his side.

I grind up soft rice between my molars. "He wants me to watch this uncle die? Fine, maybe I will."

Aang cracks some leechi nuts and vacuums up a handful. We recline against Appa's tail and watch Zuko tend to his uncle from a safe distance. The two times I offered to help change the old man's bandages, I almost got a faceful of fire. Burn me once, he's a fool for pushing away a healer. Burn me twice, I'm a fool for trying. The logical half of me says two times is enough.

"He won't ask for help, but he needs it," Aang says. "Otherwise he'd leave, but he doesn't. And he let you heal his uncle the first night."

I pick a leechi nut off his palm and rest it on the tip of my tongue. My teeth crack it open and the sharp flavor slides backwards along my taste buds. I don't swallow and let it sit at the back of my throat to mingle with the bitter taste of watching Zuko struggle to peel off a bandage at the edge of camp.

"I'm not trying again," I say with a straight face.

Aang pokes a finger at the dirt, but he's hiding a smile. My lie didn't convince either of us. He rolls a few more leechi nuts into my cupped hands. "I'm going to go see what Toph and Sokka are up to. They've been gone since lunch," he says.

"I'll come with you." Anything's better than sitting twenty feet away from an injured man I'm not allowed to come near.

Aang rests a hand on my shoulder. "You can make dinner while I'm gone. Those two are going to be starving when we get back, and I won't say no to some soup."

The aftermath silence flooding between us lets me know what Aang actually intends me to do.

"Fine. Dinner. But that's all I'm doing," I insist. "And start a fire before you go, please." Aang twirls two sticks together in a small pile of wood at the center of camp and flits off with that little smile, the one that says he's caught me lying again.

There's a bag loaded up with supplies propped up by the wood pile. I dig through it to see what we have to work with. Technically, I didn't need to ask Aang to start the fire this time. That firebender, he's sitting maybe ten steps from me and could easily have come over to help me. But, helping? Please. That's not Zuko. This is Zuko: reaching into some bag he's dragging around and pulling out a few tea leaves. He drops them into an empty tea cup and glares at the water skin on my back as if the force of his pride could waterbend over enough to fill the cup for his uncle.

I stare hard into the clutter of twigs and branches and the little licks of fire starting up inside. Let him find his own water if he doesn't want my kindly offered help.

There is the soft crunch of shoes against dirt behind me. I turn and see Zuko heading off across camp, towards the little creek that gathers in a swollen pool of water some five minutes from here. My breath on the sparks helps them grow into a proper fire, and I set a pot of water on to boil. I think of how Zuko will scoop up water from the creek and warm it up with the tea leaves, then come back to pour the liquid against over his uncle's unwilling mouth.

And in doing so he leaves me, Katara, alone in the camp with Iroh.

I leap to my feet as if someone had just dumped boiling hot lava on me, or threatened Aang. The water skin is already open, already pouring water into my open palms by the time I reach Iroh's side. I unwrap the loose bandages Zuko clumsily tried to change. Infection, green and puss-filled, webs across the old man's shoulder. I press my hands down, letting the healing water flow across the wound.

Fire cuts across my arm. I roll out of reach of Zuko's fist and its orb of fire. I screen my face with a veil of water, but he doesn't come at me again. The flames in his hand cool to nothing as he sits by his uncle's side.

"You burned me," I accuse, slapping down the healing touch of water on my arm.

Zuko doesn't look up. "Leave."

"That wound's infected. He could die if you don't let me help him!"

"Leave," he says again, his voice a notch lower. Tea leaves soak in the cup he's warming on his palm.

"Fine, don't let me help. And when that infection gets out of control, you'll know it's your fault he's hurt—"

"_Leave!_" Zuko snarls, swinging his arm to divide us with an arc of fire. Our eyes catch and there's nothing reassuring in the spark of gold in his gaze, a reflection of the fire burning up his heart and logic.

I do. I don't even look back as I march across the camp and kneel by the still-burning cooking fire. Freezing some water into an ice knife, I cut up carrots and drop in rice for the soup Aang asked for. Steam glides off the smooth stew surface as I stir the whole thing around with my bending. Inside my belly are gleaming pearls of hate for that cocky firebender whose honor will end him. Someone who would rather let his uncle slowly die than ask for help from the Avatar's friends.

But if he is too proud to ask for help, if he won't let me heal his uncle and has already decided this, why does he stay at all?

"Heeey," my brother drawls from the edge of camp. He saunters over in usual fashion, stretching out on the other side of the pot and peeking in. "Meat stew, right?"

"And what's Aang going to eat, huh?"

"Eh. Dry rice, the dew of life. Toph and I make the best hunting team. We caught us some saber-tooth moose lion. Mind if I cut some up?"

"Not for the stew. But I can cook it separately afterwards."

"Think hothead over there can flash-cook it?" Sokka asks, poking a finger at the simmering lump that is Zuko.

"He'll flash-cook _you_. He almost did me."

"You two had a good chat?"

"He's such a sweet guy," I say, swirling the stew so roughly that a glob of rice splashes out of the pot. Sokka and I watch it burn up in the embers of the cooking fire. "Where are Aang and Toph?" I ask.

"Toph said something about starting up training. Says they'll be back when the grub's done. Grub. Ha, that's a great word. Gruuub."

Grub, grub, gruuub fills the silence that's otherwise only broken by the swirl of the stew and Zuko's angry breathing off somewhere behind us. When I peek over my shoulder, he's washing his uncle's wound with some water from the river. I hope he's smart enough to heat it first, unless he wants infection on top of infection.

"Hey, Sugar Queen. What's for dinner?"

Toph plops down next to Sokka. Aang straggles over a moment later, toppling over backwards in a cloud of dust. "Soup, please," he mumbles.

"Did you get started on earthbending?" I ask the little heap of Aang beside me.

"Please," Toph says, snorting. "We got started on Twinkletoes running away from some pebbles I tossed."

Aang flaps his arms. "She rolled a boulder at my head and told me to stop it!"

I pass around bowls of stew. "Maybe you should start a little more . . . gently."

Toph's response is dipping her face right in the bowl and sucking up a mouthful. My brother's equally polite manners have him slurping right out of the bowl, too.

"Are you going to bring some to Zuko?" Aang asks.

I poke at my food and don't say anything. If the mighty Zuko wants some, he can come here and take it himself. Aang's eyes don't leave me as I bite through a carrot. My tongue touches rice but it tastes the sadness filling up the airbender's heart. I think he's grieving for me because I can't see something that's apparently so obvious.

"I don't think he's used to kindness," Aang says.

A breeze moves across the clearing. By now it's late, and the perfect circle of the moon shines down through the dark waters of the night. I turn halfway around and study the two bodies out there at the edge of camp, trying to figure what thoughts might be in Zuko's head. I take a breath to steady myself and push it down inside my lungs, trapping it there for courage. Then I get up with two filled bowls. I don't come too close because I want to keep my arms, thank you. But I set down the steaming bowls close enough that Zuko could reach out and grab them. I step back and stand there, the clean moonlight falling across my face.

A pause follows, one that should be filled with gratitude. But even while I cross back to the fire and sit around laughing with my friends, even after we have all curled up on Appa's tail with a blanket covering us in the cold, even as I lay with my knees tucked to my chin—the only thing Zuko will send me is hate. It is the oldest and most absolute kind of hate there is, the kind that sends shivers through the whole earth. It is the hate that rewards unbidden kindness, the hate that is reserved for an enemy when you stare her in the face and know she is right but can't say so—because to admit it would be to suffer some kind of loss in her eyes, and this is the one thing worse than death.


	3. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 2

We don't talk if I can help it. Some rice for breakfast, soup for lunch, tea if I feel up to making it. I leave these things by the two firebenders, and silence sees me off. One day, two days, and on the third Aang and I lounge on Appa's saddle to discuss it. We sit on the edge and sway our feet just so, making little pushes off the saddle with our legs.

I look straight ahead. My companion looks down at Zuko's edge of camp like the firebender were some mystery to puzzle out.

"See? He won't take our help," I say. "We should make him leave."

"His uncle's getting worse."

"Really? I don't know that. Maybe I would if I could take off the bandage for ten seconds!"

"Zuko didn't sleep last night."

Aang turns his eyes on me, his big, glowing eyes with the gray sky inside them. Sometimes I wish I could look out at the world through them, even just one time.

"Did he tell you?"

"No," he says. "I heard crying and thought maybe it was you."

I have a desire to jump straight off the saddle, grab Zuko by the shoulders, and rattle him around. _Can I help you now?_ I'd yell, but that would only be returned with a fire to my face. I'd like to keep my hair loopies in one piece, too.

"I've never seen him cry," Aang says. His voice comes out as barely a whisper.

"Did he attack you?"

"I don't think he saw me. I just watched from a distance, but I don't think it would've mattered. He was trying to light a few fires and not really paying attention.

Clouds slide across the sun and blanket us in an unwelcome shade. "It's going to be even colder tonight," I say.

"I think so."

"Hey, Twinkletoes. Are you coming or what?" Toph calls. Earthbending training time, I guess. Aang's favorite.

"If we're sleeping together on Appa's tail again, they could have two sleeping bags. Or we could give them the blanket and use the bags ourselves."

I open my mouth to reply, but a rock sailing out of the sky at my head sends me toppling off the side of the saddle.

"Oops, sorry Sugar Queen. You were supposed to catch that!" Toph yells up.

I pick myself up off the dirt and suck on a scratch across my arm. Zuko ignores us. Very good at that, isn't he?

For the rest of the afternoon the sun glows behind a bank of clouds. They gather more tightly as evening approaches and bruise purple with the promise of rain. We decide on sleeping bags just in case it storms.

We all gather around the fire. Orange light paints the bags and our faces. Aang starts up snoring almost immediately, joined soon by Sokka and Toph and even Momo from his place on Appa. I snuggle into the bag and lie staring at the flat surface of the black sky. Then I roll over and watch ants march single-file past the fire. Their shadows stretch out across the dirt. Tired of that, I hold my arm across my eyes. _Sleep, Katara,_ I tell myself. But still I can't.

What I can do is feel the force of Zuko's hate radiating towards me. It rolls in waves off his body because here I am warm and there he is somewhere far off, freezing. His fault, not mine. It's not like we're keeping him around here.

I push my head out of the sleeping back and sit up so I can see. They're lying there together in the dirt a good ways off. Two firebenders. Two men injured in different ways. I wonder how much hurt I don't see, the kind of hurt I can't heal with my bending. The past few nights brought moonlight which thinks it lights up everything, but maybe there's a secret place inside Zuko's heart that can't be touched.

Suddenly he sits up, too.

He's gathered up his own piles of wood. Now he sets them up in five stacks around his uncle and sets fire to them. Wind gusts one of the fires out, but he's quick to light it again. He stares at the fires and doesn't lie back down. A night wind flaps his one layer of clothing. Even from here, I can tell he's shaking.

I give myself a pep talk. _Don't worry about him. He doesn't need your help. His uncle will be just fine. _But that doesn't stop the reality that is Zuko freezing, and Iroh freezing, and me trembling even in the warmth of my sleeping bag because I think there's a secret curse on me. I can't turn my back on someone who needs help, even if they don't realize it themselves.

"I guess I'll just take Appa's tail," I mutter to the air as I drag my sleeping bag over. It scratches across the ground with the sound of claws digging into dirt. Our level of reluctance must be right about equal.

"Hey," I say to the hunched figure by the fires. "Get in this. You'll be warm."

Zuko crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm fine."

"Oh, that's nice. So you _can _say something other than 'leave, leave!'"

"We're both fine," he says, his voice low because of anger or the cold.

But they're not. Iroh's breathing is slow and shallow, unusually so even for sleep. He's shivering in his outfit and under the one blanket we had for the two firebenders to share. Older people are more susceptible to temperature shifts, especially to the cold. Without asking for permission, I squat and finger for Iroh's heartbeat on his wrist. There's barely anything, just some slow and prolonged beats that pulse against my skin.

"It could be hypothermia."

Zuko's hand brings fire up to my face. "He's fine! I can take care of us."

"You call _this_ fine?" His eyes flash but I don't even care about the flames threatening to leap from his hand into my hair. "He's already sick! Listen—burn me, hurt me, I'm not leaving until he's warm."

Turning my back, I rub my hands back and forth, back and forth across Iroh's chest.

"Off!" Zuko brings his fist, the fire extinguished, across my face. I expect a light smack, the kind that would make me draw one stunned breath of warning. But his is a full-force blow that sends a slash of pain from my ear to my mouth. His foot comes at me, but I throw the full weight of my body at him. We roll in the dust and he grabs a handful of my hair. I kick, a grunt of exertion ripping from my lips. My foot catches him right in the chest. Zuko lets go and I run to Iroh's side, back to running his chest again for the warmth of friction.

Zuko's eyes burn with all the hatred he holds for me inside his whole body. "Get off my uncle!" he shouts.

I don't think of the metal taste of blood inside my mouth. I don't worry about the pain cutting at my face or wonder if Zuko would dare grab me by the feet and drag me off Iroh. My hands just go on rubbing. Right now, at this moment, there's no one in the world but this hurt man and me.

Zuko stands over me. "Katara," I hear him growl.

I press my hands hard against Iroh's chest. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Get up!"

There'll be calluses on my fingers in the morning if I keep this up. Already my palms are tingling from rubbing against fabric.

"Get up."

I keep one hand on Iroh's chest but move the other between his sides and stomach and arms. "Heat some water," I instruct, opening up my water skin and handing it off.

A pause. I tense up, certain he's about to hit me again. But then there's the sound of water filling up a cup and bubbling with heat. "Here," Zuko says, passing me a teacup from dinner. I bend the water through Iroh's slightly open lips and make sure it hits the right passage in his throat. An involuntary swallow and the water's gone.

"It won't be enough," I say.

Zuko's hand on his uncle's arm. "There's the creek," he says, and I think I understand. You aren't usually supposed to get a freezing person wet, but I think there's one exception to the rule.

"Can you carry him?"

"Hurry up, go!"

I run ahead while Zuko follows at a jog, his uncle slung over one shoulder. There's a part of the creek where the skinny stream widens into a pool of water stretching several feet. I dam either end with a wall of ice. The creek bloats upstream and runs shallow on the other side. Zuko rests his uncle on the bank. His hands plunge into the pool I've sealed off and fill it with heat. Lazy bubbles surface up, popping at the interface of air and water.

I splash in. Without the moon I can't see clear down to the bottom, but my toes remind me there's a carpet of pebbles down there. Zuko wades in after me, the water up to his knees. We slide his uncle in slowly, down from the cold night into the warm pool until his whole body, except for his head, lies just beneath the surface. I focus on keeping the sides of the pool frozen despite the heat.

The air feels too thick to breathe until Iroh's cheeks start to lighten with pink.

"He's warming up."

Zuko nods. He's sitting in the water right in his clothing, making sure his uncle's face stays above water. I step over beside him and we don't speak, just wait there and soak in the long moments as the heat from the water rushes into all of us.

"I think he's fine. And I can't keep the ice up," I say.

He pushes Iroh out of the water and back onto the bank. I bend the water out of our clothes and off our bodies. His uncle shifts slightly, a more restless sleep.

I squat by Zuko and let the creek surge through the ice walls. "He might wake up tomorrow."

A nod. Not exactly 'thank-you,' but it's a start.

I touch his hand. "You're still freezing."

"I'm—"

"Get in the water. I can hold the ice for another minute."

He stares at my shoulder with his eyes narrowed almost to a closed position, but then he splashes back in. I reseal the ice along the sides of the pool. He lies down on his back in the two feet of warm water. Bubbles crack open across the surface all around him, sending ripples against his face and arms and legs. His hands open up to cup the night air in his palms.

From the shore he looks almost harmless, but I know about the dark place hidden inside his heart where even the moon can't touch him. It is the place he went to when he attacked me by the Spirit Oasis. It is the place that urged him to follow us all the way from the South Pole to capture the Avatar, the black scar that probably is concocting a plan in his mind right now to somehow spirit Aang out of this camp. Just as soon as his uncle is well, I bet. That's the plan. That has to be it, the only reason he's staying.

I slip a hand into the creek. The warm water laps against my fingers. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't get confused and think that our hospitality in light of his uncle's injuries is some kind of invitation to stay.

My fingers come together into a fist. Ice crackles across the water to freeze the pool. A cry rips out of Zuko's throat, a yelp more feral than human and more extreme than the situation merits. He turns his eyes on me. He turns his eyes, bleeding with hate, on mine. But it is more than hate, I suddenly see. The fire coming down as a curtain between us holds more than anger. I leap away from the creek and the force of Zuko's fear comes at me in two fireballs. One catches the sleeve of my shirt and I slap it out with water. He grabs his uncle up and sends that glare at me again, the kind that warns me to stay away. Because if I was just some enemy of his before, now I am _the_ enemy. The one who can make him afraid.

Could a little cold water do all that?

"Stay away from us," he says, turning to look at me one more time. And this time I see something else I don't understand at all.

In life there are moments you can never get over no matter how hard you try, like an image that gets inside your head and only becomes clearer instead of more obscure as time passes along. Zuko's eyes fastened on me, and nothing in them but an ocean of hurt, is one of them.


	4. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 3

The clouds hold back their rain and clear over the next few hours. From my place on Appa's saddle, I look out at the moon-soaked night and let its enormity suck me in. Sleep? As if I can get any of that tonight.

I almost wish it had rained, though. Not so long ago, Aang and I were trapped in a cave during a storm. We were in shelter, but every now and then sprays of rain blew in and misted our arms and faces. I refused to wipe it away. There's something about rain that gets the whole world's attention, like the sky is just opening up and pouring down buckets to get us to look and wonder. There's something alive about a good storm that gets under your skin. Or maybe it's just a waterbender thing.

Zuko doesn't sleep, either. He keeps the fires around his uncle tended and leans over every time Iroh stirs. He's moving often now in his sleep—a good sign, one that says he'll probably be just fine. I wonder if Zuko would rub the mist off his face if he got caught in a rainfall, but thinking of the mist makes me think of my storm with Aang again. And thinking of that cave makes me think of another. Heat circulates through my chest and pools in my stomach as a glowing crystal ceiling surfaces in my memory. My cheeks warm up the night.

I look to the ring of sleeping bags encircling the central fire, which has gone out. The only light comes from Zuko's circle of fires. Their glow flickers across his face. I study him for a long time, wondering what I had done to hurt him so much by the creek.

Morning comes as shafts of light breaking through the remnants of the clouds. This falling light is the first thing I see when I wake with a start right from my sitting position on Appa, still wrapped up in a blanket. It's early, and my friends by the fire are all still asleep. Sleeping by the burning fire that someone has rekindled.

At the edge of camp, Zuko is pouring tea trickles into his uncle's beard again.

I slide down Appa's tail. This time, he looks over at me even from twenty feet away. Whatever trust he might have been willing to grant us, I've broken it.

"You can't give up sleep," I tell him.

"Go make breakfast for your friends," Zuko says. The words themselves might be perfectly friendly, but his tone lets me know he'd love to rip my chest open with a burning kick.

I risk a step forward. "You've been awake for nights straight. Let me sit with your uncle and you sleep."

"I've had enough of your _help_."

"Yeah, you're welcome for last night."

Oh, if looks could kill.

"What if I ask Aang to watch him?"

Zuko's hand moves across his hair. "I'm fine." But the resolve is flaking off him.

"The Avatar's trustworthy," I assure him. Minus a map incident with Bato that my not-friend here doesn't need to know about.

"Fine. If the Avatar will watch my uncle, I'll get some sleep. Now get away from me."

Aang is snoring by the fire when I come over. I get down by his head and lean over. "Hey. Hey, wake up." His sleepy hands rise up and flutter at me, begging for five more minutes. "Hey, come on," I say, a giggle bubbling out of my throat.

His eyes open up. "You're upside down," he gasps like this is news to us both.

"So are you!"

He rolls over on his stomach and turns his head up to look at me properly. "Did you get a good sleep?"

"Uh . . . yeah, you know. Sleep."

He sat up and we listened to wind snap at the central fire.

"Zuko says he'll sleep if you watch his uncle," I say.

Aang's mouth is laughing. "So you _are_ talking to him."

"Go, go!" I insist.

He gets up laughing and moves across the campsite. There's one thing I love about airbenders—this one, anyway, as my single example—that no other bender can quite capture. It is a certain manner of walking that is less walk than glide, more bounce on air than step on earth. The sun shines off his clothes. It shines off his whole being, everything that the person called _Aang _encompasses. I have a sudden regret that I made him walk away. I want him to come back and bend his face close to mine. I want his mouth to open gently on mine, like in the cave of crystals I keep going back to in my dreams. Last time I was afraid to give way against him. I was afraid, or just shy, in the cave in my dreams which is brimming with crystals, glowing crystals all over that light up the world. It's just me remembering the Cave of Two Lovers, of course, but already I see that every time I go back to it in memory I change it a little. Already I'm building a legend around one moment, one of those few shining moments in life that you go back and back to.

Just like Zuko's hurt eyes by the creek.

"Hey. Heeey." Sokka wriggles out of his sleeping bag and comes over to poke my shoulder. "Are you making breakfast or not?"

"Good morning to you too," I say. "We're almost out of supplies. We'll need to stop by a town soon."

"Toph and I can go hunt later."

"See if you can catch fish."

His whole face lights up. "You don't think there're any sea prunes we can harvest around here, do you?"

"Oh, Aang would love you forever. That's his favorite," I tease.

"I'll see if I can track some down. What's he doing with those hotheads?"

We look across camp to where Aang's sitting next to Iroh, his glider staff rested across his lap. "Watching Zuko's uncle."

My brother scratches his head. "So . . . breakfast?"

I cook up leftover stew, which is basically me throwing the remains of whatever is in our supply bag into a pot and mixing it all around. Minus jerky strips, which I leave for Sokka and Toph to munch on.

"Katara!" Aang waves me over.

"Watch the stew," I tell my brother. I go sit next to Aang and see what's the matter. Zuko lies on his back on his uncle's other side, his head resting on some supply bag of his own. He's back to looking peaceful.

"Look." Aang has peeled away Iroh's bandages. We look at the place where the infection was but where, now, the wound has started to heal. "I guess he does know some things about healing."

"What, you think he's secretly a double bender? Or that firebenders can heal, too?"

"I think he's come a long, hard way. Don't you think he'd have to learn herbal treatments?"

I guess that tea Zuko's been forcefully feeding his uncle wasn't just plain tea after all. "But if he really didn't need our help, the only possible reason they're staying is to kidnap you as soon as Iroh gets better."

"Didn't you see? We were all attacked, even these two. I think we're all fugitives from the Fire Nation now."

"So what are you saying?"

He rests his hand on mine and brushes his thumb across my skin. "We should ask them stay. I think Zuko wants us to ask him to stay. That's why he's waiting."

Probably I should have expected Aang to suggest something like this, but still it makes me boil up inside. I get up. I stand right up. "Ask _him_ to stay? He's been nothing but trouble for us from day one!"

Aang gets up, too. "He saved my life, remember? Zhao would've had me trapped if Zuko hadn't gotten me out."

"That was selfish! _He_ wanted to be the one to capture the Avatar. He never had any intention of _helping _you. Helping? Being a good person? That's not Zuko."

"Not the Zuko he lets anyone see," Aang says, and in that he's neatly wrapped up the very thing that's had me sleepless all of last night. The young firebender by the river didn't hate me because I had helped warm his uncle or because I offered to keep the ice another minute for his sake. He hated me because for one moment he gave himself over to the trust of a mostly stranger, something it suddenly occurs to me he probably hasn't done for a long time. Zuko had climbed into water when he knew it was my element, when he _knew _I could bend it to my will, but still he had sunk down up his neck and closed his eyes and trusted that I would just let him have this moment of peace. But of course I hadn't.

I close my eyes and his hurt look cuts through me. It cuts me right up.

"Katara!"

I look and see Iroh stirring. Actually moving. His hands come up and rub the sleep from his eyes. Then they open up and look into the sky.

"Morning, is it?" he asks groggily. "Well, good. Nothing like a fine morning with some tea and a warm breakfast after a nap." He rolls his head a little to look at us, looking not the least surprised to see us gawking at him. "Ah, the Avatar and his waterbender friend. How are you?"

An open-mouthed _uh . . . _is about all I can manage.

"How are you feeling?" Aang says, adapting quickly. It occurs to me that Iroh's probably seen so many strange things in his long lifetime that waking up next to the Avatar in some dusty campsite is just small potatoes in comparison.

"Good, good. A little stiff in the shoulder. Azula's lightning, was it?"

"That's okay," Aang says, smiling. "Katara and Zuko took care of you."

"Thank you," the old man says, looking me straight in the eyes.

Iroh sits up slowly with my help. He rubs his hands over his knees as if checking to make sure they're still there, and I can imagine why. Not moving much for a long time will start up the worst needles across your body, like one time when I was young and fell asleep on my arm. I ran outside screaming that my arm is coming off and woke up the whole village.

"I think I'll be fine as long as my nephew's sister doesn't take care of him."

I process this fact and store it away to bring up later. "Let me get you some stew."

"Oh, excellent!" Iroh says. "And I'll start some tea boiling."

I warn Aang not to wake Zuko until I'm safely across camp. Let me wake him up and next thing I'll get is another fireball sent my way and Zuko yelling up a storm about how I tricked him into being asleep right when his uncle finally regained consciousness. As if I'm connected to the spirit world and can control these things. In fact, I ought to clear out of the camp entirely until their reunion is over.

After setting out plates of stew for everyone around the fire, I go down to the creek. I feel for the smooth flow of water with my hands. I feel for disturbances, the flick of fins or tails in the stream. My hands manipulate a current of water out of the river and onto shore, containing in it a single fish. There is a sharp rock on the shore and I kill it instantly, painlessly. I tell myself we need some kind of food until we restock on supplies. Something fills up my stomach though, a new feeling. It is the heavy weight of regret, which I've never felt while fishing before. I hope air nomad ways aren't starting to get to me.

I stay by the creek and fish for another few minutes until the crunch of footsteps from behind startles me to my feet. I whip around. Zuko is standing a few feet off, his eyes on the ground. My whole body tenses up. I reach out for water—

"Thank you," Zuko says. Just that. No explanation, nothing else tacked on. _Thank you_, and then he walks back the way he came. I look after him and bet anything his uncle ordered him over here. Kindness? That's not . . .

_Not the Zuko he lets anyone see, _Aang had said.

I return to my fishing, but now the low gurgle of the water and the rush of wind has died down to almost nothing. The one sound left anywhere is _thank you, thank you,_ a sound so small that I wonder how it can be that it could fall across the whole world.


	5. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 4

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and your kind words. You guys make my soul happy. Your constructive feedback is also equally appreciated because I take reviews very seriously and will do my best to address your concerns moving forward. Please continue to share your thoughts with me as this is my very first fanfiction, and the very last thing I want is to take anyone out of character or overlook something important. _

_ It has come to my attention, however, that I may be disappointing some of my readers for a reason that can't be helped. One review (which, I admit, may or may not have been a joke) noted that (and I quote): "Zutara fanfics must be at least 80% sex (possibly violent and/or S&M) or they are completely invalid and suck." Zutara "sex" doesn't even remotely come into play until the fifth part of this nine-part saga ("I Think I Know Enough of Hate"), and since we're not even through with the first part that's a long wait. So if this is the kind of fanfiction you are looking for, please be aware that you are entirely in the wrong place. This Zutara story is about true Zutara love, the way it might have been if Zuko had joined the team after "The Chase." There is a stereotype about Zutarians that we are illogical just because we believe in Zutara. I'm hoping to change that just a little through a story that includes Kataang, and Jinko, and Maiko, and all those other key shippings—which then, in a logical and reasonable manner, transition into Zutara because of alternative events that happen in this story. And, of course, this is a story about a whole lot more than just love. So for those of you who are interested in a (hopefully, well-written) work that will address your concerns throughout and strive to get better as time goes, please read on. _

_A final note: I tried to get the first few chapters up really quickly, but it's going to actually be weekly updates from here on out most likely (around once every Saturday, I think, except for this coming Saturday). It's medical school application season, and I need to have my whole primary application finished by June 5. That's a whole lot of work between now and then—but I love medicine and I love writing, so I say challenge accepted! And now, on to the new chapter. Enjoy, and thank you for reading my first attempt at a fanfiction._

I've gathered about ten fish by the time the next set of feet comes up behind me. This is a sound I barely hear, one carpeted by the air currents that seem to cushion Aang's feet.

"Hey Katara. What are you doing?"

"Catching our next ten meals. We need to restock in a town soon."

"We will. When you're done, I'm calling a team meeting. We all need to talk about something."

"Oh?" I probe gently.

But Aang's face betrays nothing of the subject at hand. He just looks at me with that serene smile that can never be taken away from him. Whatever else he might be, strong in the face of despair is one of them. I can't imagine for even one moment what a situation must come to for that smile to be ripped from his face.

"Well, after you're done fishing and I'm done with some earthbending," he adds, letting out a sigh.

"Are you a master yet?" I tease.

Aang sits by the creek and kicks off his shoes. He sticks his feet right into the cold stream and drops his face into his palms. "I don't think we should talk about it."

"You've just started," I say, sitting down beside him. Light rises off the water like it's a stream of shining fish scales. "Whatever problem you're having, I'm sure it's no big deal."

"It's not _a _problem. I can't do any of it!"

I reach over and lay a hand on his arm. "Yet. But remember how you picked up waterbending techniques even faster than I did? Earthbending is just the exact opposite of what you're used to with airbending, and that's why it's taking longer. But you'll get this, too. I know it."

Aang nods. "Thanks, Katara. I'll do my best."

"Then go get started. I want to know what this meeting's about." I see him off with a splash from the creek. He catches the water midair and redirects it right back at me. "See, a waterbending master in the making!" I call, channeling the water back into the stream. Aang's eyes take me in, echoing the smile on his mouth.

After he's gone, I gather up the fish in my arms and carry them back to camp. I guess Sokka went off to watch Toph train Aang because none of them are in the clearing when I get back. Which reminds me: I need to talk to her about that tonight. He responds best to positive encouragement and gentle nudges in training. I hope she's not pushing him around too roughly.

Suddenly I realize Iroh's not in the clearing, either. The only person still here hasn't noticed my approach, or at least hasn't given signs of noticing. I leave the fish by the now-extinguished fire and look to where Zuko is sitting by some markings in the dirt.

"Planning out how you're going to kidnap the Avatar?" I ask, only halfway kidding.

Zuko doesn't look over. "They're bending insignias," he says, his tone neither hateful nor kind but simply level. "My uncle says it's important to draw wisdom from many different places."

"Your uncle seems like a wise man."

He stares into the shapes drawn into the ground as if trying to see through them. His chin drops and eyes close like he's thinking hard. "Are you going to make lunch?" he asks, the words so low I wonder if it pains him to say them.

"I was about to."

"Do you . . . want me to fry the fish?"

I stare at the blackened wood at the center of camp like I'm waiting for the fire to start up again on its own and maybe for the fish to just jump right in and fry themselves up. I can't seem to register exactly what he has offered, like when you're in a fight and suddenly it's over but your body's still fighting. It always takes a few more minutes for your heart rate to understand that you can drop your guard now. Or like when you lose a person and it takes years and years for the loss to settle over you. Big things tend to hit with slowness and not all at once.

"Are you . . . saying you want to help me make lunch?"

"Yes," he says simply. "May I?"

I feel light-headed like I'm disoriented, and I think maybe I am, because either that or there are two Zukos who keep coming into this camp at different times. They are identical twins with identical clothing and identical everything on the outside, but inside they're like air and earth. One is the angry firebender who tried to burn my head and arms off for trying to change Iroh's bandages. The other just an ordinary boy who said _thank you_ by the creek and is offering now to help cook for the team.

"I guess you . . ."

But some part of me still isn't sure about his motivations. This is the part that wonders what Aang knows about Zuko that he hasn't told me yet, and where Iroh has gone, and why are the two of us alone in camp with everyone somewhere else.

"Where did your uncle go?" I add.

"He says he needed a bath. I told him about the creek. So, fish?"

"I . . . I can handle it," I tell him. Actually I'm not exactly the best at starting fires, and I think Zuko sees that clearly from my bitter sigh. He comes over anyway with some fresh wood and drops it onto the central pile. One lit spark spreads across everything and eats up the wood.

"Thanks."

"You're . . . uh, welcome," he says, looking very intently at the fire as it's a new thing he's never seen before. "I guess."

It occurs to me that he's really never done this kindness thing with strangers before. That might explain why he links and unlinks his fingers, not entirely sure what he's supposed to be doing with them. I pass a fish across the fire and he takes it, heating it up in his hands. The very smallest whisper of a smile ghosts over his lips.

"Did your uncle tell you to help us?" I ask, meaning it innocently. Just a question to spark conversation.

The fish burns to ash in a sudden blaze from Zuko's hands. He glares at me, hard, and pushes to his feet. "Of course!" he yells.

What he says with his words: "Why would _I _choose to help you?"

What he says with his eyes: "You're never going to see me as anything but the face of your enemy, are you?"

He stalks out of camp with an angry _I'm going to go train_, leaving me alone by the fire. I lay some flat rocks on the edge of the fire pit to heat the stones. Slitting the bellies of a few fish, I break off small twigs to hold the stomach cavities open. Then I place the fish on the rocks with their cavities facing the fire and watch them cook. I focus on my work and the flames dancing on fish scales and not on Zuko. At least, I try to focus on the fish. But that takes me back to the river, and that to Zuko's hurt eyes, and that to his gaze just now. The one that accused me of pushing him away when it was his own choice to help us. And his own choice, earlier that morning, to finally thank me for saving his uncle from the cold.

"Katara . . ."

Aang half-walks, half-stumbles into camp. He flops over face-down by the fire, letting out a huge whoosh of air.

"Good session?" I ask, turning the fish over for even cooking.

"I can't do it," he groans. "I can't earthbend."

"Yeah, he can't!" Toph yells from the edge of camp, followed closely by my brother. "I give him easy reps and he just bounces out of the way of everything like a wimp."

"Wait, wait—it's hot!" I try to warn as Sokka plucks a fish right off a boiling hot stone. He hollers out but doesn't drop it.

"Hothothothothot—hey, this is good!" my brother says, crunching into the back.

I shake my head. "You started slowly, right? Just practicing lifting pebbles?" Toph's wide grin is answer enough.

"Hey, where are Zuko and Iroh?"

"Zuko's off training. Iroh's taking a bath," I tell Aang.

"Oh," he says. "Well, we can't have the team meeting without them."

"And why not?" I argue. "They're technically not part of this team."

"Iroh is," Toph says, grabbing the rest of Sokka's fish and another one off a fresh stone.

I cross my arms. "We haven't decided that yet."

"_I've_ voted him in," she tells me straight. She crunches into a fish, decides it's not cooked well enough yet, and drops it back down on its rock. "Problem, Sugar Queen?"

"Yes, problem! If we're inducting new members, I think we should have a team vote. Then we can each express our thoughts on these new . . . _members_ and decide if they fit the team dynamic."

"Yeah," Sokka agrees, waving around a fish. "My sister needs a chance to 'express' her 'thoughts' on the tension between her and Zuko."

"Yeah, all the sexual tension," Toph casually chips in. "She obviously needs to kick him out of camp because she knows they're going to end up behind a rock one of these nights."

There is a glare in my repertoire reserved exclusively for exceptionally stupid people, or those who like to pretend they are. I unleash this particular stare at them both in full force. "_Excuse _me?"

"Oh, female death stare! I'm hit!" Sokka gasps, toppling over backwards and forcing exaggerated choking sounds out of his throat. He and Toph share a high-five. "Aww, come on sis. We're just kidding around."

I can feel Aang looking even before I catch his eyes. He's very slowly nibbling on some leechi nuts and gazing at me. Not an accusing look, just a curious one. "I think that's a good idea," he says. "A team vote about whether Iroh and Zuko should stay."

"Fine," I say. "But let's hold off for a few days. See how they behave now that they're both all better."

"Okay," Aang says cheerfully. "Good things come in threes, and I like that number anyway, so let's give them three days to prove they're good teammates!"

"You know Sugar Queen's going to sabotage Sparky."

"_Sparky?_" I echo, gawking.

"Yeah. I think that's a good name for Zuko," Toph explains.

I stand up in a huff. "We're _not _nicknaming them!"

"Yeah, whatever," she says, waving me off. "Go splash in the creek and see if that gives you some good ideas for booby traps."

I stalk off in a fury. That Toph, always thinking she knows best. I don't need to sabotage anyone to prove that Zuko, whether he thinks can help us or not, can only in the end hurt us in his anger. I've seen that dark place in his heart. No matter how he tries to hide it, no matter how much he pretends he can change, I've seen what he can be.

But haven't I seen people actually change? Am I not the one who looks for good in people? The one who trust that there's something worth saving in everyone?

I go down to the creek and freeze.

Zuko is sitting on the opposite shore, warming up a fish he must have caught himself from the water. I'm conscious of the gentle way he teases the fish's scales off with a knife. Of my mysterious desire to sit on the bank, too, and watch him eat. He fixes his eyes on mine and doesn't move. He looks like a boulder weathered over by years of grief and the heavy hand of sorrow, too tired suddenly to even walk away from the grudge I hold against him. I remember feeling waves of hate rolling off his body. Maybe he feels those waves coming off me, too.

We sit there with the river between us, neither speaking at first. I decide I should tell him our decision.

"In three days, we're voting whether you and your uncle can stay or not," I say.

I expect him to argue and ask why it is we think he wants to stay at all, but he doesn't. Zuko just quietly eats his fish. I wonder what else I've mistaken about him. What I'm still mistaking even now, sitting across from him. I study him for the next few minutes until he gets up and drops the fish bones into the water. I try to see through his armor of anger to the sliver of light Aang and the others seem to see inside.


	6. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 5

_A/N: Okay, _now_ I'm serious about no more new updates until pretty much June 5—but you guys have been giving such thorough and helpful feedback that I figured I'd leave you with just a little more before then (for example, thank you for pointing out that Katara is a bit meaner to Zuko than she ought to be at this point). Here's one slightly shorter chapter I tapped out earlier this morning. In addition to medical school applications, I'm working on revising my original plan to pick up the pace a bit, which is why the next update will be further off (I need time to rethink the plot carefully so I only cut out truly unnecessary parts that slow us down for no important reason). To give you a taste of where we stand, I'd say we're just slightly short of halfway through part one. Enjoy!_

In the early afternoon we take Appa past a village where Iroh, less conspicuous than the rest of us in the guise of a plain old man, uses a few remaining coins to buy some vegetables and rice for Aang's vegetarian taste. Then we fly on, following the creek and searching for a new site to set out camp. We don't know exactly what we're looking for—just a place where those girls, including the lightning generator Iroh seemed to suggest is Zuko's sister, won't find us. Some safe place for Aang to practice earthbending and come that much closer to becoming a fully realized Avatar.

By evening we've come upon a gorge and settle in for the night. Aang offers the two firebenders a blanket and a spot on Appa's tail while the rest of us curl up in sleeping bags by a fire (minus Toph and her earth tent). Iroh thanks him, though Zuko is less generous with doling out gratitude. One nod, and that is that. I watch them lie down to sleep. Iroh lies straight on his back and soon starts up an even snoring, but Zuko tosses and turns for a good half hour before deciding to sleep on his side. The blanket has crawled down his shoulder, leaving his side half-exposed to the cold. His open eyes face me, catching the glow of the fire. They're very good at catching fire against the golden iris arcs.

I feel my heart in my chest. It hurts like it's been stepped on and I know it's my own fault. Bitterness will do that to a person, crawl right inside her heart and eat it up from the inside. The one way to cure it is to let it go. Just let it all go. So in the tired hours of the night with Zuko maybe watching me, maybe staring through me, all the hate drains right out of my body. I tell myself I should try to let him be a new person. At least give him the chance.

When I wake up in the still partly dark morning, it's just Team Avatar around the fire. The two firebenders are gone, leaving Appa with a crumpled blanket draped across his tail. I bolt to my feet and make sure Aang's still in the clearing. He is, snoozing with his mouth open. I sigh in relief and then feel guilty for even thinking they'd try to kidnap the Avatar. I use a stick to mark this note in the sand: _Gone for a walk. Be back for breakfast. Sokka, no eating all the supplies. Or hiding the vegetables. Katara. _

I wander through the gorge along the creek. The air seems translucent in this not-exactly-day, not-exactly-night dawn hour. Light crawls slowly across the sky, first rimming the clouds red and slowly cooling to the pale white and blue of day. I suddenly hear footsteps at a distance, footsteps coming closer, and duck down behind a boulder coming out of the ground.

Zuko's angry voice falls across the canyon. "I don't understand—why can't I do it? I can practically feel it in my hands but then it just blows up in my face. I should be able to get this."

"And you will in time," his uncle says. Though I can't see them, I imagine Iroh laying a hand on his nephew's shoulder or else just smiling warmly. There is something so comforting about Iroh's wisdom that I almost wish I had some reason to learn from him as my mentor. I'd learn anything, even the art of tea-making.

"I _know _I will. I think I'm ready to try again."

"Maybe a break would—"

"No, I'm ready now!"

They're close enough that I think I hear Iroh sigh. They must be maybe four, five feet from the boulder. I probably shouldn't have hidden here to begin with and instead walked out to meet them, but the longer I sit here the more awkward it becomes for me to just suddenly jump out with a _hi, I've just been eavesdropping for the past few minutes—I hope that's no problem!_ I decide to just hide out until they've gone on.

"Remember, you must focus on separating positive and negative energy and guiding, not commanding, its release. Begin with a few calming breaths."

There's a sharp crackle and then Zuko's yell. "I should get this!" he yells again.

"Calming breaths—take a few. And watch me again."

The air suddenly fills up with something like static. Tiny hairs prickle up across my arms, and I peek out just slightly to see what's happening. Sizzling between Iroh's two hands is an arc of blue lightning. Seeing it so close, in such absolute control, I can't hold back a gasp. Zuko is intent on focusing on his uncle, but as Iroh sends the lighting out through two pointed fingers of his hand his eyes fall across me. I duck behind the rock, but I've already seen him smile just so.

"Now. Try again," he says to his nephew. There is a pause for a few cycles of breathing, then a sharp crackle and Zuko yelling again. "Well, we will continue to practice later today," Iroh adds reassuringly. "In fact, I think there is another firebending move I can show you tonight, one I created myself. One day you will be able to impress the world with your bending. I think we have already impressed one young friend of yours."

And with that he walks off down the creek humming some tune, leaving me behind the rock. I wait for Zuko to follow his uncle, but he does no such thing. I can't tell if he's practicing lightning, or just trying to work through what Iroh could possibly have meant about a young friend, or staring hard at the boulder providing me cover. I sit quietly for a few more minutes before I risk peeking out from behind the rock. Zuko's nowhere in sight.

"He must have gone while I wasn't looking," I reason out loud to myself, though I don't believe it. I get up, half-expecting him to jump on me. But I'm actually alone with just the slap of water against the bank.

I turn to follow Iroh's footprints back to camp on the sandy shore. I wonder what song he was humming. He's a strange man, that Iroh. I start to hum a little tune of my own, one my mother sang to me when I was small in the South Pole. A rush of wanting washes over me, one so strong I stop in the morning light and try to breath and breath until I remember how it's done. My throat fills up with a lump, the kind that only comes to me when I'm alone with water lapping in my ears and my mother's memory in my heart.

In this rush of noise, I don't hear the footsteps running up behind me. I don't hear anything but a sudden clash of metal on metal across my chest and only open my eyes when sword blades cross over my neck. I'm pinned back against a very tense body by very sharp, ice-cold metal edges just touching my skin. Threatening to cut my throat.

"Why were you hiding?" Zuko growls from behind. His warm breath breaks against my neck.

"I-I wasn't," I choke out. "I was just walking—"

"You were hiding behind that rock. _Why?_"

"I-I thought—"

"I'd hurt you? Oh, I know what you think of me. Toph warned me to stay away from you."

Gee, thanks Toph. "No, I—wait, you two were talking?"

"Civil conversation from the evil firebender. Hard to believe, I know."

"I'm not scared of you," I say, though I don't realize that's what I'm about to say until it's out in the open.

"Oh?" The swords tighten around my neck. "Aren't you?"

"No," I say, and this time I mean it. "In fact, I'm . . . sorry. For before." The swords drop away, though Zuko doesn't sheath them. I whirl around, but he's just standing there watching me. "I'm sorry," I say again. He lifts an eyebrow and I take a step forward. "You've just been our enemy for so long that I can't help but be careful."

He looks down at the long shining lines of his swords in the sun. "I understand," he says, almost regretfully.

"But if you prove yourself these next few days, you'll be part of the team. Then I'll know you're on our side." I try to give him a smile, though the gleaming swords make a friendly face difficult to put on.

He finally sheaths them and steps forward to stand beside me. "Shall we?" he asks, gesturing to his uncle's footprints.

We walk back along the creek, not saying anything. Instead we listen to silence and the things that aren't said, which often say a whole lot more than what vocally fills the space between two people.

_I'm going to try to trust you_. _Don't make me regret it_, I say in the silence.

_Thank you_, he says. _I'm going to make it worth it. _

"That . . . was some pretty cool firebending," I admit.

"The lightning? Well, I'm not good at it yet. But I will be," Zuko says. I realize it's the first time I've heard him even somewhat confess to weakness.

"Do you . . . mind if I watch you and your uncle practice? It seems like an interesting technique."

He looks at me, trying to gauge my intentions, but I mean just what I said. Storms are the things that get people's attention because there is nothing more dangerous, more beautiful, than lighting burning across black clouds. To see a simple man like Iroh hold the very spirit of a storm in his hands cuts at me in the most breathless way. As a waterbending, I can never touch the spirit of fire. Seeing it so close will have to be enough for me.

"Feel free," he says. "If you'd like."

I nod. "Good. And when you learn that trick, maybe you'll be strong enough to beat me in a fight."

Zuko sighs, but it's good-natured and accompanied by a smile. "I've already beaten you. Remember the north?"

"Please. I wasn't focused enough. If I wanted to, I could take you down right now." One part of me, and this is the part that screams at me to listen, tells me to shut up right then. But another part layered under pride, pure pride, adds on this: "I don't even need my bending to take you down."

"Oh, really?"

"I can prove it."

Zuko smiles, but it is a dangerous kind of grin. This is the smile of a hunter who is about to trap a very small animal into a dead-end tunnel with nowhere to run. "Do you want to?"

"I'm not scared, remember?"

Twin blades gleam in the light. I jump back but Zuko has already lunged toward me. He knocks me down on my back. I slide backwards, trying to get away, but suddenly the blades cross at my throat and sink into the sand. He buries them halfway up to the hilt, the crossed angle touching the skin of my neck, and steps back.

"Okay," he says lightly. "Get out of that without bending."

Then he sits down on the shore, smiling expectantly as I simmer in the morning sun.


	7. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 6

_A/N: [Note: Spoilers for LoK in this A/N - you were warned!] Well, I wasn't going to write more for a while – but this most recent LoK episode made me a bit sad with the lack of Korra-themed shipping and so I decided to tap out some more of this fic. I mean, seriously – I have no problem with Asami and the reveal was pretty cool, but I am upset that Bolin is totally not making any moves towards Korra and Mako is more/less permanently shipping with Asami, thus rendering Korra shipping-less for the time being. I actually was completely expecting Asami to be an equalist and this to be the thing that drove Mako and Asami apart—ah, well. Now I don't know what's going to happen next, which I guess is exciting in its own way. And so in the meantime, you guys get this update. Which ends in a bit of an unusual move from Katara—like it? Don't? Please let me know in the review section (thank you!). Edit: Also, thank you so much to everyone for your comments and for pointing out mistakes - and especially to JackieStarSister, who got a bit of an unexpected LoK spoiler. Sorry. ^^  
_

Well I just really ought to congratulate myself over this one. _Thank you, pride_, I should add in._ Thank you so very much._ Because instead of just keeping my mouth shut, I had to go and get myself into this fine mess.

I could technically get out with just a few simple words like _I'm sorry, you were right _or _Okay, I give up_ or even_ Fine. You win. _But it's pride, all pride now. How can I back down with that firebender just serenely watching and probably oh-so-pleased with himself? It's almost like Pakku all over again when he thought a woman couldn't be a combat waterbending master. I proved him wrong. I'll prove Zuko wrong, too.

Now . . . if only I could actually fight without bending.

_Focus_, I tell myself. This isn't even a duel, just a pair of swords I have to get away from my neck. I carefully, slowly, stretch up one arm as high as I can reach to see if my fingers can wrap around the handle. Then I could wiggle the swords out—

No luck. Zuko's driven the swords in deep but not so far that the handles are in my reach. I lie there in the dirt and stare into the blue, blue of the sky. The sun hasn't peaked over the edge of the canyon wall yet, but it will. Oh, it will. And of course there's not one cloud in sight.

"Any ideas yet?" he asks.

"Plenty. I'm just trying to figure out the best approach to start with."

"Please take your time." I hear Zuko splash his face with some water from the creek. "We have all day. And the night if you want it."

The creek is at most a few inches from my fingertips, but I can't get to the water without bending. I can feel the coolness rising off the surface, a chill I would need in a few hours when the sun is burning me up—if only I could reach it. Because I'm not giving in. Not until I find a way to beat him.

"Just let me know when you get tired," he says. Dare I say he's holding back a chuckle?

I can already tell it's one of those hot days for the records. Heat builds up in the creases of my knees and elbows long before the first glimmers of the sun come across the high rock walls. Maybe it's just the frustration building up inside, but the sun seems to have the ambitious plan of cooking me alive while I'm exposed under its day-long glare. What kind of weather changes like that, hypothermia-inducing cold one night and a little later a day so hot it makes my skin boil?

When the sun is just short of reaching its zenith, Zuko gets up. He walks into my line of sight, which is directly up and maybe just a little to the sides. Tilt my head too much and the swords threaten to cut my throat. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows where we are. Don't cheat. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He goes off and leaves me alone with the swords and that feeling like I'm going to be roasted by the day's end. I wonder how sharp the sword blades are themselves. Maybe if I'm careful to not touch the very edges, the worse I could get would be a third-degree burn from the hot metal—but then I could wiggle the swords up and out of the ground. I wrap my right hand slowly, slowly, around one of the swords . . .

"Katara! _Katara!_"

A whirl of air gusts past me like a gale. Thanks to the shock of my name yelled out and the air blast together, my hand instinctively tightens on the sword. The sharp edge slits my palm wide open. Tears bubble into my eyes, tears and a gasp. A trickle of bright blood winds down my arm but I can't even heal it because I need water for that, and using water would be cheating even though the creek is only two inches away, and cheating would mean losing to Zuko who thinks he's so perfect in everything. Though with my recent streak, I'm beginning to wonder who holds their pride up higher between us.

"Katara, are you okay?" Aang swerves around and drops down from his air scooter beside my head.

"You're upside-down," I tease, my mouth parched from mild dehydration. I think my mind's starting to melt a little in the heat, too.

A worried frown breaks across his face. "Zuko told me I can't help you, but I can stay here to make sure you're okay," he explains. "Your face is red. You need to get in some shade. Oh, I know! If I lean over like this, your face is out of the sun."

I have an overwhelming urge to lunge up and kiss him on the cheek, only of course the swords nipping my neck stop me. Aang blows cool air across my face. I gratefully accept the breeze.

"Hey!"

Aang leaps up. I register that it was Zuko calling out from a distance, but all I see if the airbender guilty twiddling his thumbs. The firebender stalks over, his footsteps crunching up the dry dirt. He's carrying something I can't quite make out. "I said you can stay close by, not help her."

"But I wasn't—"

"Shading her _is_ help. She says she has something to prove. I'd like to see it done fairly without intervention."

Aang and Zuko wander outside my line of sight, but their voices float to me from a little down the creek.

"I don't think she ever learned to fight with anything but bending," Aang says.

"Katara claimed she can take me down without bending."

"But you two aren't actually fighting. And I think what she actually meant is she's smart and doesn't _just_ use bending in fights, even though it's important. It's especially a non-bender thing. People like her brother have to rely on cunning and not just their mastery of an element to face benders."

Zuko considers this. "Cunning. Interesting."

"But since Katara isn't a non-bender—"

"All the better reason to wait it out and see what she comes up with."

Aang sighs loudly as they circle back around. Zuko calmly sits beside me. "I don't see this going anywhere," he says.

I drum my fingers on the ground. "You're giving me the rest of today, aren't you? And the night. And as long as I need, right? I'll figure something out."

He shrugs. "Well, whenever you're ready to give up."

Aang sits next to him, nervously fiddling with his glider staff. Zuko sets out something white between them that blindingly reflects sunlight right into my eyes. This thing happens to be a teapot. And two teacups.

Zuko pours tea for himself and Aang. The airbender holds his cup guiltily, shifting the weight of the tea from one hand to another. Zuko takes a sip. I don't think he means any kind of cruelty in it, but right then I want nothing more in the entire world than one small drink. I won't even be picky—tea or water or just about anything. My lips are cracking in the heat.

"Can I just give her one sip?"

The firebender takes a long drink and refills his cup. "When she admits she can't get out of this without bending."

"I _can_," I say, feeling around for something like a sharp rock. My cut hand hits on one, a hand already burning from the sting of sweat. I scrape at the hard dirt around the junction of swords and earth. If I loosen them up, maybe I can wiggle them free more easily. But my arms are trapped too awkwardly for me to get a good angle on the interface. And the sun keeps moving across the sky, its fire reflecting off the rocks and creek and bright, bright sky. I try to adjust my arms and turn my head too far. A cut splits open on my neck. It's just a small one, but one that immediately floods with hot sweat. I cry out, fighting back tears.

Aang jumps up. "Please, she's bleeding. Can she use healing?"

Zuko looks hard at the ground. "That would be using bending—"

"Bet or not, she's hurt!"

I can tell Aang's fighting the impulse to just rip the swords free from the ground. "I have to win this on my own," I tell him. The canyon walls are starting to swim in my vision as if the rocks are half-alive, but I don't say that. I just focus on the sky and try to think.

We spend the rest of the afternoon that way, Zuko calmly sipping on tea and Aang pacing back and forth, back and forth, asking me every few minutes if I'm okay. Sokka and Toph come by a little later, and it takes Aang airbending my brother back to keep him from strangling Zuko. I convince them all I'm fine, and Toph doesn't call me on the lie. She drags Sokka and Aang away for earthbending practice, leaving me and Zuko alone by the bank. His uncle comes by towards evening to bring over a fresh pot of tea. He sits with his nephew for a few minutes, not really talking but just taking in the quiet that comes with dusk. Zuko tells Iroh to let the others know they're not welcome back here again, that this is just between the two of us. Night birds starts to come into the trees and sing up to the moon. They sing the moon right into the sky as darkness falls over the gorge.

Every part of my body hurts from not moving for hours, but at least the heat has fled from my face. I cycle the cool air through my lung, in and out and in and out. Zuko hasn't lit a fire and so I can't make out his face exactly, though I imagine he must be watching me sadly and wondering how much longer I'm going to keep this fool game up. A bet we both know I can't win.

"Why won't you just give up?" he asks.

I look into the sky clotted with stars. There's one band passing across the night that's shining almost like an actual road a person could walk down. "I never give up on anything."

"I think my uncle would say there's a time to fight and a time to surrender. You have to know when you can't win."

When this started out, I thought it was all about pride at beating a challenge I accepted. But lying here under the star-sprinkled sky, I think how it's about a lot more than that. It's the sum of all our fights and conflicts, the ones between this firebender and me, and a need to put an end to them.

"I never give up on anything. Or anyone," I say again. "I'll never turn my back on a person who needs me. And I don't run away from my problems."

"Guilt trips don't work on me. If you think you can convince me to let you go—"

"No, I'd be stupid to think that."

Zuko bristles. "What does that mean?" he growls.

"If you let me go, you haven't given me a full chance to prove my worth. That's just dishonorable. I didn't think you cared about things like that, but I was wrong. I was wrong about you. In almost everything."

We let the dark envelope us in its cool blanket, a sheet that has covered up the whole world. He lights a fire in his hand and its glow falls across my face as he looks at me from above. I think how there is so much darkness everywhere but it's still not enough to smother out that small light. How one light is enough to hold back the night.

Suddenly he stands and grabs the sword handles. The blades slide off my neck. I sit up too fast and my vision blurs. I roll over, panting into the ground, and feel a cup come up to my lips.

"Here, drink this," he says.

I drain the entire cup and then just grab the teapot. I drain tea right from the spout. When I'm done I go for the creek and just splash in. I lie in the foot of water and close my eyes. Water surges over my face and mouth and hair, soothing the remaining heat right out of my body.

I sit up slowly this time, still in the creek. "Guilt trips don't work, huh?"

Flamelight flickers over his face like the glow of a candle. Candlelight on his face. On his eyes. "I told you. A wise man knows when it's time to surrender."

"Ha," I say weakly. "So I win."

He's smiling. "If you'd like to see it that way."

I expect to feel the selfish pride of accomplishment because here I am, Katara, finally freed from Zuko's swords on my own terms. But instead I feel a sense of mutual pride: Zuko for letting me go, me for admitting I was wrong. Fully admitting it, not like before with _maybe _tacked on to the end of every confession.

"We should go back to camp," he says, getting up.

"You go," I tell him. I crawl up to the shore and lie down on the bank, rolling onto my side. "I spent a day here. I'll finish off the night."

Zuko stands there awkwardly, not really leaving but not exactly staying. He walks away a little, then comes back, steps away, and finally sits down. "I don't want to wake everyone else up," he says evenly, revealing nothing of his intentions. I'm too tired to think anything of it, anyway. He lies down a few feet from me on his back to stare up at the sky.

"Hey." I roll over to face him.

"Hmm?" he murmurs, not turning to look at me.

"Your swordbending is impressive."

With the fire extinguished in his hand, I can only tell he's smiling but the quality of his voice. "Oh?"

"How did you learn?"

"I had an excellent teacher."

"Your uncle?"

"Not for this," he says.

I consider my next words carefully. "Is it hard to learn?"

At this he rolls over to look at me across the few feet of space between us. "It took me years," he says slowly, thoughtfully.

A wedge of impulse cuts at me, as it has been cutting at me all day. Staring up at those twin swords gleaming in the sun, I couldn't help but think how I really can't fight with anything but bending. But non-benders can be just as tough, even tougher, and I think Aang was right. To be a non-bender takes cunning. To be a swordmaster takes skill.

"You . . . don't think you could show me some sword moves sometime?"

"Why? You don't have swords."

"You could let me borrow yours. Just for a few minutes to see what it's like," I say. A small siren in my brain is warning me that my mouth is about to lead me down a path I don't mean to take, but I silence this piece of me. Because the other part wonders just where this path might lead.

"Katara the healer, wanting to be a swordmaster too?"

I shrug. "Well, _you _are. Besides, I'm just asking because I'm curious . . . and honestly, I'm just as strong as you are. I can handle it."

He nods and reclines on his back again. "I suppose you proved that today."

"I—"

"You did," he says. "You lasted until I set you free."

I roll away from him and stare into the water. Do I have an interest in swords? Maybe. What I certainly have an interest in is this strange firebender who until a few days ago was the face of my enemy. A firebender who in the end is just a boy like any other, just a person who might have been my friend if only we'd known each other in a time outside of war. We don't tell each other good night out loud, but silence carries more than we ever have the courage to say. In the darkness washing between us, I sense walls crumbling down into dust as fine as the silky sand that cradles us here on the bank.

"I think we're going to be friends," I say, and I mean it.


	8. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 7

_A/N: __As always, thank you to those who have left a few words in review—your thoughts give me the courage and inspiration to plow on! But before we begin, kindly allow me a chance to give you a heads-up as to where we're headed in the next few chapters. The previous chapter ended with Katara and Zuko agreeing on some swordfighting lessons. Rest assured, there will be training sessions in the near future (beginning with the second part of this nine-part saga). In fact, Katara may well forge some swords of her own once we get to—oh, but that would be telling. What's the fun in spoiling the story with my little hints? XD_

_ In the meantime, this particular chapter will be necessarily brief and a bit blah because it primarily serves as a transition into the next chapter, which will essentially be "The Library" but with a critical new tweak at the conclusion (I bet some of you already have guesses as to just what additional misfortune befalls our beloved team). This will be followed with one or two chapters that draw on elements of "The Desert." The end of their journey through the bitter wastelands will mark the conclusion of the first part of this epic—the desert, of course, being the very literal embodiment of the first stanza of "Fire and Ice" when the world of our heroes comes very close to ending in the burning heat of their trek. But there is another world that will be in as much danger from a flaming anger that overtakes our young prince—a barely forged Zutara friendship threatened by the twist at the conclusion of the chapter after this one. You'll just have to wait to see how it all plays out._

_Edit: My apologies, the review comments are correct. They should know he is a prince by now and it was my brain that temporarily deceived me. Corrections have been made accordingly. Sorry . . . but as this chapter says, there is nothing (and no one) perfect in life! ^^_

When I wake up it's to a warm blanket covering me up and Appa's fur between my fingers. Looking around, I see I'm back in camp on the sky bison's broad tail next to Iroh, who is still asleep. The air is filled with only the faintest light of early morning and the glow of the central fire. Zuko is the only other one of us already awake. He's turning something over in the fire pit with his back to me. I can't know for sure, but I have a faint guess as to how I ended up back here.

I come over to sit beside him. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Not as well as I'd hoped," he admits, again turning over what I now realize are some fish on stones like I set out a few days ago. He seems to not know what to do with his hands again because he unnecessarily adjusts the fish on the stones with a stick over and over. "I kept having nightmares about you cutting yourself on the swords during our practices," he adds at last.

I can't tell if he's actually serious. "Only if my sifu doesn't train me well."

"As long as you listen you'll be fine. But if I impress, you should see my old master. There's no swordsman who can match him."

"Obviously you're right. You need a swordwoman for that."

His hand passes across his face like he's embarrassed by my attempt at a joke. Or maybe it's just the oddness of being part of open, friendly conversation. "Try beating me first before you go see Piandao."

I memorize that name and store it away for later just in case it ever comes up again. "You know, this would go a whole lot faster if you just flash-fried those fish with your bending."

"Faster, but not nearly as good," he explains. "If my uncle were here, he'd remind you to follow the pace of nature whose secret is patience. And then he'd slowly boil some tea and show you the difference between that and heating it up with one blast of fire. That's why no one can make tea like him. Good tea takes time."

"You really respect your uncle, don't you?"

The warm smell of baking fish falls across us both. "I wouldn't have survived exile if it weren't for him," Zuko says, carefully taking out one fish on its stone with a forked twig and setting it on the sands by the fire to cool. "He's more of a father than my real one."

I watch him politely to see if he'll add anything else, but he just lets the calm of silence wash across the clearing. One of these days I'll work up the courage to ask him more about his exile. That and the scar branded across his face.

One by one my friends stir from their sleeping bags and come join us for breakfast. Iroh makes some tea and passes cups around for all of us. Sokka burns his tongue on a hot fish again, Toph punches my arm in place of _good morning_, and Aang sits down beside me. I go off into a daydream about him finally mastering all the elements and defeating the Fire Lord. It occurs to me that maybe these two firebenders know about the situation in the Fire Nation and can help us figure out a plan going forward.

"I've been thinking," Toph suddenly announces.

"That can't be good," Sokka says in mock horror. "What about?"

She holds up her fish like a torch. "I say we take a series of mini-vacations! Each of us can pick one, starting with me. And then you and Sparky. We should skip Aang because he'll pick something wimpy. And Sweetness because she won't pick something fun."

"Hey," I grumble, though the idea doesn't seem like a bad one.

"Mini-vacations!" Aang shouts. "That sounds like fun."

Zuko chews over a bite of fish. "I don't know. The Avatar has a long way to go before he's mastered all four elements."

"We have plenty of time," Toph says. "Besides, he's not jumping out of the way of my rocks anymore. He'll have it all mastered eventually." She leans over towards Sokka. "And if anything, I need a break from him," she whispers.

"And his waterbending's been going well," I add in. Toph's intentions with these vacations might not be the best, but we all deserve a good break.

"Wait, wait!" Sokka says, getting up. "Okay, so Aang hasn't been falling completely on his face with his earthbending. But we need time to make real plans and figure out how we're going to take down the Fire Lord. We don't have time for vacations."

Zuko looks hard at Sokka, and of course I know why. _Prince_ Zuko, Iroh had once called him. I look at the young firebender. I look at the scar burned across his face and wonder.

"Hmm," Iroh says thoughtfully, pouring out a fresh cup of tea.

His nephew glances over. "Uncle?"

"I think I know where I'd like to take a vacation," he says.

"Oh, that's right. You're boss," Toph says. "You get first pick."

Iroh takes a long sip of tea. "When we were in the north, Zhao intended to kill the spirits of the moon and ocean. During one of our talks, he told me he learned where the spirits were kept through a scroll he found in a hidden library in the Earth Kingdom. It turns out the library he meant belongs to the great knowledge spirit Wan Shi Tong."

"A bunch of old scrolls? That sounds like a party," Toph says.

Iroh sets down his cup. "The library is said to contain a vast collection of lost knowledge. During my travels with my nephew here through the Earth Kingdom, I asked around about the legend of the library. Some say it lies somewhere in the Si Wong Desert."

"But that's the hottest, driest place in the world," Aang says.

"Yeah, I've heard horror stories about people getting lost forever," Toph says. "It's pretty much impossible to navigate."

"But it could contain information that could help you take down the Fire Lord," he says.

"Getting secret information about the Fire Nation—now that's a vacation plan!" Sokka says. "I second his vote."

"If we can even find this place," Toph says.

Iroh smiles. "We won't be flying completely blind. I think I have some ideas of where to being our search. And what we find could be valuable for your goal."

Suddenly Zuko stands right up. "I'm going to go train," he says, leaving behind his half-eaten fish and tea.

"What's _his_ deal?" my brother asks, jabbing a thumb at Zuko's retreating back.

Iroh says nothing, but neither does he make a move to follow his nephew. He looks intently at Aang who gets up instead, saying he's going to go practice waterbending. But I know where the little airbender is really off to: offering comfort for whatever turmoil is burning up our new friend.

"Katara," Iroh says, waving at me. "When you finish your tea, can I speak to you by the creek?"

I set down my cup and follow him to the outskirts of camp. We sit down on the bank where we can't be overheard. I tuck my legs beneath me. "What is it?"

He doesn't say anything at first. Instead he looks at the flowing water as if searching for some meaning in its ripples and the slap of small waves on the shore. "There is nothing perfect in life, but it is very hard for most people to see this," he says at last.

"Oh," I say politely, not sure at all where this is going.

"My nephew is a troubled young man even if he is much too proud to admit it. I think you and your friends will be a good influence on him. You certainly will be. You are not too proud to admit your faults and have courage to stand up to him."

Ah, I see. "He told about last night?"

Iroh pats my hand. "Letting go of anger is one the hardest things there is, Katara of the South Pole. It takes a person who understands there is no perfection and only life." He stands and takes a few steps away. "Ah, a word of advice? Being a swordmaster takes patience, like teamaking. Or cooking fish."

He walks off and leaves me with the feeling that he's seen into my soul with those amber eyes. I don't get up right away to follow him back, looking instead into the water as Iroh did. My ears fill up with the soft splashes of the creek and I have half a mind to jump right in and come out sopping wet. As if the wisdom of the river could soak right into me. But the moment passes and I let the creek go on its way untouched, coiling off down the canyon. The warm eye of the sun slides out from behind a cloud and falls across me, bright against my skin.

When I return to camp half an hour later Zuko is back with his uncle, Toph, and my brother by the now-extinguished fire. The two firebenders are playing some game on a tiny square board. From Zuko's scrunched-up eyebrow, it's clear who's winning.

"Hey Katara," Aang calls to me from his sky bison's saddle. I think he was waiting for me to get back to camp.

"Hey," I say. We sit down on Appa's tail a good twenty feet from the others. "What happened to Zuko?"

"I think he's got some personal issues with the Fire Lord. He wouldn't tell me exactly," Aang says.

"I think there a lot he's still not telling us. But we'll find out."

He nervously fiddles with his glider like he's balancing on the brink of a big decision. Then he lays his hand on my arm. The faintest rush of warmth comes into my face. "I thought he wasn't officially part of this team," he teases. His hand doesn't come off my arm and instead slides lower until our fingers touch.

"Oh, right. We still technically need to vote."

Aang's fingers link with mine so we're holding hands. "Technically?"

I go off into a daydream again, but this one's not about Aang mastering the four elements. "Whatever problems I thought he'd give us, I've realized I was wrong. So he has my vote." I say this fairly absentmindedly because I'm mostly focused on this airbender beside me. On his smile. On the glow coming off his face. From a distance I hear Sokka's hooting laughter come at us. It doesn't take me looking to know who lost the game the two firebenders were playing.

I sit there with Aang and every passing moment is one I collect right inside my heart. Iroh hinted at exactly what I already knew, that perfect things are very rare and when a perfect moment comes along, like this one with the whole team together in peace, you better grab hold of it and not let go until you have to.

Because perfect moments, like all things, tend to end.


	9. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 8

_A/N: **[Essential background information contained here—please read**!] In order for this (twice as long as ordinary) chapter to make sense, you need to know something about the history between the Order of the White Lotus and Wan Shi Tong. I'm going to draw on information I've picked up on from several other fanfictions (if anyone would be kind enough to PM me some links to these fan stories, which I'm also currently looking for, I'll edit those links into this chapter to properly credit the creators of this idea). But anyway, the idea is that the library wasn't always buried in the sands. It was once an open storehouse of knowledge that all could visit—until the Order tried to use that knowledge for selfish reasons. Enraged, Wan Shi Tong razed down a large portion of the Order and buried his library. And so this spirit isn't exactly friendly to Order members like our dear Iroh, who therefore decides not to mess with a spirit who doesn't like his kind. Which explains Iroh's decision early in the chapter to stay outside with Toph and Appa. _

_ Now, unfortunately, there's not much wiggle room in this chapter in terms of plot sequence—mostly because I don't want to slow us down even more when we're finally so close to the upcoming Zutara. So expect this chapter to follow the plot of "The Library" very closely. And for those who are wondering when we're actually going to get to anything resembling Zutara-ness, just hold your ostrich horses until we reach the next two chapters—a true Zutara love, like all good things, takes time to build. For now, let us begin with the chapter whose conclusion redefines team dynamics for a long time to come—and sets the groundwork for the close Zutara dynamic that develops as a result. And while you read, I'm going to go faint from the exhaustion that comes with cracking out a massive chapter in one sitting just because you people are awesome and I'm looking forward to finally getting to some desert Zutara in the next two chapters. _

Below us rush the rounded forms of windblown sand dunes. This desert of endless sands is unbroken by any sharp edges, not even one hint to guide us. For three days we've slept through the burning sunlit hours and flown under the bright dots of starlight, following some map marked up by Iroh's own hand. Now a fourth morning is creeping slowly across the horizon now, its pale pink glow webbing across distant clouds. I take a drink from my water skin. There are plenty of refills and supplies on the saddle in case we run out.

"Are you sure this place actually exists?" Toph groans, kicking her feet up on the edge of the saddle.

"I believe so," Iroh says from his place on Appa's head. The little airbender has given him over control of the reigns. "And I believe we're getting close."

"That's only the fifth time I've heard that."

"To be expected if you ask five times in the same hour."

She crosses her arms. "Yeah, whatever. Teaching Twinkletoes would be more fun than itchy sand and stupid scrolls."

"You have a problem with scrolls?" I snap, remembering the waterbending scroll and how helpful it proved. Remembering, also, how our adventure with that scroll was one of the few times I'd been alone with Zuko before he joined our team. How the one thing I wanted back then was to break free from my restraints against the tree and prove my worth in his eyes or just take him down for good.

Toph waves her hand in front of her eyes. "They don't do much for me."

"Right," I say quickly, laying a hand on my neck. "Sorry."

Morning spills higher across the sky. In the quiet that follows, I think back to how there were once moments, like during our fight in the North Pole, when Zuko's presence stirred just one meaning, one purpose, deep within me: a profound anger at this firebender—at all firebenders—because they took people away from me I wasn't ready to give up. A firebender took my mother away from me. Zuko tried to take Aang.

Looking at him now where he sits across the saddle next to Aang, the two of them resting quietly one by the other and sharing in the silence, I'm amazed at how people can start life out one way and come out completely different. Like how I started out hating Zuko. Like how he started out hating all of us. But now he looks up and catches me staring. Instead of anger or offense, he offers a small smile that I would almost call shy. I return it willingly.

"Ah, there's something below!" Iroh calls from the front.

Sokka and I are first to scramble up front and look over the saddle edge. "You mean that spire-looking thing down there?" my brother says, pointing.

"Yes, I think so."

Appa descends through the fading waters of night and lands with a swirl of sands. Sokka scratches his head as we all climb down. "_That's _the library? I thought you said it was a _vast_ collection of lost knowledge. How many scrolls can you fit in one tower?"

Each of Iroh's footsteps towards the spire stirs up a loose gust of sand. He's holding a bag of some mysterious things he bought at our village stop. "This is only one small part of the library that lies buried beneath the sands. I heard that long ago Wan Shi Tong let humans use his knowledge freely, but men betrayed his trust." He rests one hand on the spire's surface, and for a moment his face looks tired. "When you go in, the old knowledge spirit may challenge your intentions before he lets you browse freely. You must convince him you will only use knowledge for knowledge's sake and not to destroy your enemies."

"When _you _go in?" Zuko echoes. "Uncle, aren't you coming with us?"

Iroh chuckles. "Someone has to stay out here with the Avatar's fine sky bison. I will wait for you here. However, you will need these. Pick one, each of you." He opens the bag to reveal thick old tomes.

"Old books," Aang says as we each take one. "What are they for?"

"If Wan Shi Tong refuses to let you into his library, offer him these books as donations to his collection. He will welcome worthwhile knowledge."

"You guys go play with the dusty books. Count me in for staying out," Toph says. She flops down by the spire's base. "Like I said, scrolls don't do much for me."

"Well, excellent!" Iroh says. "While we wait, I will tell you stories from the Fire Nation. We have time for some good ones!"

"Listening is my kind of thing," she agrees.

Aang airbends up to the saddle. He picks up a bag with ropes and other supplies we picked up during our last village stop before the desert. "Well, let's go!" he calls, tossing down the bag.

Sokka ties one end of a rope to his boomerang and throws it up through a window high up on the spire. He starts up first and I follow, occasionally glancing down. While Aang goes over to pet Appa, Zuko stands by the rope and stares at it like he's expecting it to leap into his hand.

"Uncle . . ."

"You have nothing to worry about. If I try to get myself in trouble, Toph will be right here to protect me," he says, patting her arm with a chuckle. "Go on inside."

Zuko nods and grabs the rope. He starts the upward climb but his eyes barely come off his uncle the whole way up.

"May destiny be your friend today," Iroh calls with a wave.

I nod back and then climb over the edge of the window and start down the rope on the other side. A curtain of cooler air falls across me. A sudden chill. Momo glides past me, circling down to the floor far below. We descend into a large room held up by pillars and archways carved with owl heads. At the bottom of the rope, I let go and drop the last foot to the ground. I look around at the cross-shaped bridge that holds us—and, more importantly, to the long rows of bookshelves past the archways. Dim green light falls across everything.

"Let's look around quickly and get out of here," Zuko says quietly, dropping down beside me. His hands forms clenched fists at his sides. I start to answer him, but something about talking down here feels wrong. I just nod in reply as we wait for Aang to airbend down the join us.

"Well?" Sokka says, waving an inviting arm at the bookshelves, but then a sound like rustling feathers fills up the room. The cold from the room pierces through my spine. "Come on!" my brother yells, grabbing my arm. We run toward a pillar with footsteps in pursuit. I assume there are two pairs of feet behind us, but it's only Aang with Momo on his shoulder who duck down behind the pillar with us.

"Zuko!" I call, but he pays me no mind. He's still at the center of the bridge, swords drawn, staring down a hidden enemy. Proud, stupid Zuko. Too proud to run away without a fight. But then his shoulders tense as an enormous black owl with a white face walks through an archway and steps onto the bridge. He steps back as the creature turns its eyes on him. Its large, curious eyes.

"A human in my study," it observes. "Humans are no longer permitted here."

Instead of bowing in respect, Zuko crosses the swords with a sharp clink of metal. "We don't want anything but knowledge for knowledge's sake," he says in a rush, echoing his uncle's warning. The words are right but his tone is cold, afraid. Surely the knowledge spirit won't approve, which means Zuko's in danger . . .

"Katara, come back!" Aang yells as I run out from behind the pillar, but I don't turn back. I skid to a halt between the owl and Zuko and bow.

"Please, we mean no disrespect," I say quickly, glaring at Zuko. He sheaths his swords and glowers but still doesn't bow. "You are the spirit Wan Shi Tong?" I ask, begging the spirits to keep the firebender silent.

"Indeed," the spirit says. "I am he who knows 10,000 things."

"My uncle probably knows more," Zuko grumbles quietly from behind me.

The owl dips his head slightly. "There are few wiser beings than myself, and certainly no mortal man. This one"—he gestures with a wing toward my companion—"reminds me why humans should be turned away. You think too much of yourselves and are only interested in knowledge to gain an edge on others of your kind."

"Excuse me, but we're not your ordinary type of human," Sokka says, coming up beside me with Aang and Momo close behind. "We're not interested in that whole _edge _thing. We're here with the Avatar"—he pushes Aang to the front—"and we're just interested in your books."

"Uh, hi," Aang says, waving with his usual grin. "My friends and I won't use your knowledge but its own sake, wise spirit. We're just here because we heard legends of your great collection." He bows, and we all follow his lead—even Zuko, though reluctantly.

"Hmm. The Avatar and his companions . . ."

Aang holds up the book he took from Iroh's bag. "To thank you for letting us look through your collection, we'll even return the favor by adding new knowledge."

Wan Shi Tong passes his wing over the book and takes it. "Fresh knowledge is always welcome here." Each of us presents a book to the spirit, and he nods at each one. "Very well," he says at last, passing his eyes across each of us in turn. He keeps his gaze on Zuko the longest, perhaps wary. "You may enjoy the library, but remember your promise to use knowledge for its own sake." He jumps off the bridge and extends his wings, soaring down to the library's lower levels.

Zuko glares after the spirit. "Know-it-all," he huffs. "Let's just go find what we need."

We walk into the forest of shelves and start picking out books at random, not really knowing what we're looking for except something to help us beat the Fire Lord. I wonder what Zuko must think of all this. Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord's own son, helping the Avatar take back the world.

I follow him between two shelves while Aang and Sokka drift off on their own. He leans against a shelf and picks out a thick book but doesn't open it.

"You can try to hold it against your head. Maybe the knowledge will just seep in," I joke.

He focuses on the cover. "I can look through this area. Go help Aang and your brother. I'll call you over if I find anything."

I collect a few books and sit on the ground with my back against the shelf. I flip through a few pages and read two at random, but it's just some history of the Earth Kingdom. What I want is to focus on our search, but something hurts inside my chest and I think it's just me being so close to another's pain. My head tilts back so I can see Zuko's face. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer and I think it's because he doesn't want to lie and anything sounding like _fine, I'm just fine_ wouldn't be the truth. I try to imagine how he must see things at this moment, looking for information to help take down—

"The Fire Lord's your father, isn't he?" I ask quietly, just to confirm it for myself.

He opens the book and shields his face with it. I'm sure the characters on the page are nothing but a rushing blur of moving text that tells him _you are not one of them_. I get up and lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says, coldly enough that he's probably hoping I'll take that as a cue to leave.

"Not that he's your father," I add. "That you have to hear us talk about defeating the Fire Lord."

He looks off at the space between the bookshelves and I know he's seeing a lot more than this library. "People always judge me for being his son. They think I'm a terrible person who wants to spread war and anger because it's in my blood. I want to say they're wrong, but sometimes I'm not so sure. I hunted the Avatar. I tried to capture the world's only hope for peace."

A silence passes across the span of a few long moments, but I see in his face that he's carefully planning out how to explain something to me. I hold my hands at my sides and wonder what I should be doing with them, getting another book or—

"I'm not sure what I think about my family right now, but I know something has to change. My uncle believes in the good of the Avatar. If this is how we can help, this is how we'll help."

I take his hand and give it one small squeeze. "Thank you. We're glad you're part of the team."

He keeps his eyes on the ground but doesn't pull his hand away. This, more than anything his words could ever express, tells me how difficult just coming down here with us must have been. Something builds inside my chest again, something else I'd like to say only I don't know what yet. Just a desperate need to tell this firebender that I can see through his mask of courage to the hurt, troubled boy inside.

"Zuko, I—"

"Hey, where'd you guys go?" Sokka calls from a distance, cutting me off.

"We're over here!" Zuko shouts.

My brother and Aang come down our aisle. Sokka's holding some kind of parchment in one hand. Behind them bounds a little fox-looking creature. It sits patiently at the end of the row and whimpers. "We found a paper about something called the darkest day in Fire Nation history. Finding more about that could help us," Sokka says. "I think that fox knows where we can get more information. Come on!"

Zuko puts back his book and runs down the aisle after Sokka. Aang waits while I put my books away and then we follow close behind. The fox takes us to a wall with a sun symbol and vanishes through a hole. The symbol rolls aside to create an opening with a sharp grind of stone on stone, giving us passage into a dark dome-shaped room painted over with a vast landscape of clouds and mountains.

"What is this?" I murmur, mostly to myself.

"A planetarium," Zuko says from right behind me. I hadn't realized he'd followed me inside so closely. "There were drawings of these in some of the books I studied back in the Fire Nation."

Aang points at the fox, who bounds over to a pedestal and pushes a lever that fills the sky with revolving stars. "I think this room can tell us something about the Fire Nation's darkest day. And I think this little guy's trying to help us figure it out."

We gather around the pedestal and examine its dials and symbols. Zuko grabs the parchment, which I now see is slightly burned, from Sokka's hand and looks it over. "Is this what told you about the darkest day? There's some kind of date on here," he says. "Maybe these dials correlate to dates and time. Let me try to enter this date."

He adjusts the dials and pushes the lever by the pedestal. The planetarium grinds to a start and the sky turns to day once again, thought this time the lights have dimmed. Above us, the moon has passed across the sun.

"Why'd it stop?" Aang asks, looking up at the two intersecting symbols.

"I think . . . it's a solar eclipse!" Sokka shouts.

I nod. "The darkest day . . . _literally _the darkest day. But why does that matter?"

A silence passes across the room. My brother and Aang are both looking at Zuko, who won't look at any of us. His eyes are locked on the sun and moon. A shadow has passed across his face, darker even that this dim room could cast.

"Zuko?" Aang says softly.

His jaw tightens and he stalks out of the room.

"Oh, what?" Sokka calls. "We finally stumbled on something useful and now you're going to run—"

I gently rest my hand across my brother's mouth to shut him up. "Let me go talk to him."

Aang and Sokka follow me outside but pause in the entrance of the planetarium. Zuko is waiting outside, framed by two pillars and an archway. The pale green light falls across all of us. It paints his scar into a brownish stain.

"You know what happens during a solar eclipse, don't you?" I ask quietly, my words breaking the fragile silence.

Hesitation, but he nods. "Firebenders . . . they lose their bending. Just like what happened in the North Pole." His hands become fists as if he's trying to hold on to something. As if everything he has is about to slip through his fingers.

Sokka whoops. "That's _perfect!_" he cries, punching the air. "If we get this information to the Earth King in Ba Sing Se, all we have to do is wait until the next eclipse to invade the helpless Fire Nation. They'll be sitting turtle ducks!"

Zuko's fists catch fire. "_Invade_ the Fire Nation? I thought this was just about the Fire Lord."

"Uh . . . well, it is," my brother stutters, quickly backtracking. "Well, mostly. I mean . . . uh."

"You want to put innocent citizens in danger, too!" Zuko snarls, turning his burning glare on my brother.

Aang steps between them. "Can we work this out on the surface?" he asks, pointing toward the ceiling for emphasis.

"As expected," says a cold voice that cuts across us. "You will work nothing out on the surface, humans," Wan Shi Tong adds from behind us. We whip around as his black shadow swallows us up. "You have betrayed my trust," he says, leaning toward us.

"Please, we had no choice," Aang says quickly. "We're only doing this to protect innocent people—"

Already boiling with anger, Zuko tears his twin swords from their sheath. "Don't worry, we're leaving," he spits at the spirit. "You can take your _knowledge_ back."

"Don't _you _worry, mortal. I plan to!" Wan Shi Tong cries, his voice rising to a screech. His neck grows longer and feathers like horns erupt from his head. He lunges at us as sand pours in trickles from the walls all over.

"He's sinking the building!" I yell. "We've gotta go!"

Aang grabs Momo by the tail and chases after me with Sokka in close pursuit. Zuko waits a moment longer as if deciding if he should attack the spirit, then sheaths his swords and follows. Bookshelves, books, sands, pillars, arches—all rushing to meet us and falling behind. Aang sends gusts of wind behind us to try slowly down Wan Shi Tong. I hear the owl's screeches and know something the airbender's doing must be working. A sudden burst of heat from behind lets me know Zuko's chipping in to the efforts.

All of a sudden, the owl screeches stop. We must have lost or stunned him—either way, there's the bridge ahead. There's the dangling rope.

"Wait!" Sokka yells, skidding to a halt.

"What? No, come on!" I scream.

"Just knowing about the eclipse isn't enough. We need to know when the next one's going to happen."

"We can find out later—"

"No! This is our only chance and you know it. Katara, take Momo and run. Aang, with me. Zuko"—my brother holds up a hand, which Zuko takes—"keep my sister safe."

"Sokka!" I yell, but he's already running back the way we came with Aang in close pursuit. I start to chase after him but Zuko grabs my arm. Momo huddles on the firebender's shoulder, trembling like a leaf swept up in wind.

"They'll be fine. Let's go!" he says.

Sands gusts suddenly in our faces, carried on the black wings of an angry spirit as he flies over the side of the bridge. Fire jumps into Zuko's hand, casting a burning light across the room. "Run for the rope. I'll hold him back."

Momo follows me down the bridge. I grab the rope and start to climb. The rope sways back and forth, back and forth. I look to where Zuko sends blasts of fire at the black spirit. The owl cuts down with his wings, striking the firebender across the head. Zuko falls to the ground.

A sound breaks through the library, a scream that makes the bottom of my heart drop. I let go of the rope and land on the bridge. It's only when I run for Zuko that I realize the cry was the firebender's name tearing out of my own throat. For the second time in as many hours, I find myself between my friend and Wan Shi Tong. My arm poises over my water skin. My legs automatically find a waterbending stance.

"Your waterbending won't do you good against me, as little as that human's firebending techniques," the spirit says. "I have studied bending styles from all the nations."

There's a motion behind me as Zuko gets to his feet. "All your knowledge won't save you from this!" he yells, extending two fingers of his right hand and rotating his arm in a circular motion around his body. His left hand mimics the motion and then he brings his hands together, lunging forward with this right hand extended—

An explosion shoves him backward. Wan Shi Tong throws back his head. "Pathetic firebender," he cries. "That was your fine display of lightning generation?"

"I'd go with distraction generation," comes my brother's voice from a few feet away. He and Aang run past us, grabbing me and Zuko and dragging us off to the rope. Momo flies at the owl's head, enough of a diversion for us to climb up. When we're a good way up, the lemur flies past us and out the window to freedom. Wan Shi Tong beats his wings against the air, letting out a final shriek, but we topple through the window and land in a heap on the sands outside.

In a sudden rush of sand, the spire sinks beneath the ground. I look to see Toph shielding herself from a dust cloud. Toph, who must have held the spire up long enough for us to escape. I'm ready to go over and kiss her when I realize something else. What I see is Toph enveloped in a cloud of dust. Toph, alone.

"Where's Appa?" Aang says, realizing the same thing.

The earthbender sinks to the ground and drops her head between her hands. Zuko storms past me to stand above her. "Where's my uncle?" he yells.

This was another one of those moments, the ones in life you can never get over: The four of us standing there and Toph sitting on the ground with a settling cloud of dust all over. Toph slowly shaking her head, one tear rolling down her cheek. A silence washes over us, and for that single moment I would not be the least bit surprised if the sun broke loose and fell out of the sky.


	10. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 9

_A/N: [Narrating a newsreel] After a close escape from Wan Shi Tong, Aang and his friends think they've safely made it back to the surface world. Unfortunately a quick headcount reveals they're down by two members, both captured by the sandbenders with the help of Shirshu spit darts. Can the team make it out of the desert alive now that it's down to just Aang, Sokka, Toph, Zuko and our narrator Katara?_

A hot sweep of midday wind blows across us. Aang closes his eyes, but I think even blinded he would see this moment forever. His head would ring with a silent scream, the one that tells him he's lost his old friend and wasn't even there to help him. "How could you let them take Appa!" he yells at Toph. Now his eyes burn with flames I've never seen in them before.

She erases the one wet streak off her cheek with the back of her hand. "What did you want me to do when the library was sinking and you guys were still inside? I couldn't—"

"You could've come to get us! But you were too busy telling stories with Iroh, weren't you? You weren't even paying enough attention to know someone was coming!"

"Watch it," Toph snaps. "I can't feel vibrations in the sand—too loose. Iroh watched my back so those sandbenders didn't touch me while I had my hands full keeping this library above ground. He dropped three of them before they shot him and Appa full of darts."

"They _shot _Appa," Aang gasps.

"Stop it, both of you," I say, stepping between them in an attempt at peacemaking. "Toph did everything she could. She saved our lives."

"We're doomed. We're doomed to die out here," Sokka moans from a distance. He's wandered off to survey the endless desert from atop a dune.

The airbender looks hard at the ground, his shoulders shaking like he's been slapped across the face. "That's all you care about, _you _making it out," he says, his voice a notch lower. "None of you care what's going to happen to Appa."

I lay a hand on his shoulder. "Of course we're all worried. We just need to focus on working together as a team—"

Either Aang doesn't want to listen or he's already in a different place and can't hear me. "I'm going after Appa," he says, throwing his glider into the air.

"Aang, wait!" I shout, but he's already fading into the sky.

"Zuko?" The question belongs to Toph and seems to come from a long way off. I look to where she's standing a few feet from the firebender, who I realize has lapsed into silence. He's staring intently at the ground as if there's something written there the rest of us can't see.

"Where's my uncle?" he asks again, slowly, as if tasting the sound of each word.

Toph's chin drops. "The sandbenders took him away with Appa. It was you guys or them. I couldn't stop them. I'm sorry."

Zuko lifts his hand and looks at his open palm. A small fire starts up inside it. He closes his fist over the flame and hides his face against his two clenched fists. His arms swing wide, spurting fire, and suddenly his knees buckle as if they can't support him any longer. He twists to the ground and huddles against the sands, consumed by the overwhelming pain of sudden loss. A scream rips from his throat, the kind that makes my heart drop inside my chest again. I take a step toward him, but the source of his grief is clear and inconsolable. Appa, a rare sky bison, can be sold for good money on the market. He'll be kept safe at least through the desert. But an old man who is just an extra mouth to feed . . .

"Zuko, we're going to find Appa and your uncle," I say, kneeling beside him. A part of me is trembling because I half-expect him to firebend at any moment and burn through my clothes or face or hair, but the other part knows I need to stay here with one hand on his hand and one arm around his shoulders. I press my nose into the collar of his shirt because I don't know what else to do to stop the pain coursing through his whole body. I try to cover at least a small corner of him with my embrace like a blanket, the kind that tells small children _it's going to be okay because you're safe now. You're safe because I'm not going to leave you. _

"We're going to do this together and not give up until we find them. I promise," I tell him.

He rocks against me as he pushes up to one knee and moves away, leaving me down on the sand. I tilt my head back and from my perspective, Zuko is framed in the light of the high sun. He looks across the empty desert. A strong breeze blows across his face and then my own. Sokka leads Toph over to where I'm still sitting on the ground. My brother opens his mouth to talk but I rest a finger over my lips to say _shh-shh._ He helps me up and the three of us stand together while Zuko peers across the desert wastes.

"First we need to find Aang," the firebender says, all the life ripped out of his hollow voice. "That means we'd better start walking."

None of us point out that it's technically daytime and that's usually when we sleep because that's when the sun is hottest. Instead we follow his lead and also don't point out the lack of food, of water, that all we have is my half-filled water skin and our collective hope while those two things last. Zuko stays ahead of us and I don't try to overtake him. I think he needs to lead this charge into the desert on his own. To feel like he has control of at least one small thing while the rest of his carefully constructed world falls to pieces.

We plod through the hot sands while the sun peaks to zenith and slowly sinks through the burning sky. I waver between sticking close to Toph and Sokka and walking faster to catch up to Zuko, though I'm not sure he's ready for conversation. _I wouldn't have survived exile if it weren't for him, _Zuko had said of his uncle.

_He's more of a father than my real one,_ he'd said.

If anyone knows the pain of losing someone in the family, that's me all over. I try to come up with some kind of comforting thing to say, but I should know better than anyone that there aren't enough words in the world for some losses. Sometimes there aren't even enough tears in a lifetime. Zuko won't look at me all day and I bet that's why, to keep me from seeing that he's crying. I wonder if his scarred eye can still shed tears.

"Katara, can I have some water?" Toph calls after some time.

I nod. "Okay, but we have to try to conserve it. It's all we've got." I bend out some water and suspend it in the air between us. I direct some water first into Toph's mouth, then Sokka's, and finally to Momo where he's sitting on my brother's head as a makeshift sun hat. I look to where Zuko has gone on a good distance without us. "Hey, come back!" I shout. "Aren't you thirsty?"

"Keep up!" he yells, not even slightly slowing down.

I grab Toph's hand. "We need to stick _together_," I mutter to myself, chasing down the firebender with my friends right behind. I let Toph go and run in front of Zuko. "Did you get that? _Together. _That means no one runs off alone or leaves anyone else behind."

He pulls back his arm as if about to elbow past me, but then he sighs and simply steps around me. "_I'm _setting the pace," he growls. "Keep up or I _will_ leave you behind."

Sweat beads on my forehead and trickles past my eyes. "Oh, perfect," I grumble. "On top of everything else we get to deal with hothead Zuko again."

"Sparky's just bummed about his uncle," Toph says slowly. "And how much water did you say we could have?"

I take out the ration I was saving for myself. "Just a little more," I tell her, splitting it between her and my brother. I start to offer Zuko a drink again but he's already far up ahead. "Looks like we're going to have to run to keep up."

We travel the rest of the day that way, Sokka and Toph trailing in the rear and me yelling after Zuko to slow down every other minute. He just trudges on ahead and doesn't stop for anything. Eventually it faintly occurs to me that we haven't slept in almost twenty-four hours. And even as it sinks lowers, the sun burns us with a blistering heat.

"Zuko," I call towards nightfall, catching up to him. He shoots me a scathing glare. "We need to stop for a while. We can start again in a few hours, but we can't keep this pace up."

"I'm not stopping until I find my uncle."

"_Zuko!_" I get in front of him, ready to force him to stop with the weight of my body. "I know we need to find him and Aang and Appa, but we can't do that if we're tired. A few hours of sleep will set us back on track to travel at night when it's cool and rest during the day."

He looks like I've struck him across the mouth or burned him with some terrible insult. "My uncle would _never_ sleep until he found me. I'm not giving up on him."

I throw my arms wide open. "There's a difference between giving up and resting so we can stay strong. I—Sokka. Sokka, what's wrong with you?"

In the ten seconds I looked away, my brother and Toph have both gotten their hands on some green bowls that look like cactus slices. "Try this cactus juice," my brother drawls. "It'll quench 'ya like no other!" He topples over and rolls onto his back, fanning out his arms and legs to make an imprint in the sand. "Who painted the sky purple?" he murmurs in true horror.

"Toph, _please_ tell me you haven't had that yet," I groan, grabbing the slice from her hands and pouring out the juice.

"Aww, come on. I was going to drink that. He says it's the quenchiest," she complains. Her lips look cracked from the heat.

"Wooooooorm. Imma wooooooorm," my brother sings as he wriggles across the sand. From his new perch on Toph's head, Momo buries his nose in his hair and flattens his ears.

Zuko stalks over to my brother. "Get off the ground!" he shouts.

Sokka blinks emptily. "Hey, Zuko set himself on fire!" he says, which probably isn't too far from the truth.

The firebender breaths deeply and lets it out, in and out and in and out, all to the tune of Sokka shouting _wooooooorm, wooooooorm_ and flailing around on the sand. Suddenly Zuko turns away and breaths out a single flume of fire. "Fine," he chokes out as if that word is a death sentence on all of us. "Since you fools aren't capable of _anything _we can stop for an hour. But that's it, one hour. Get some sleep or don't, whatever you want."

Toph flops right over on top of Sokka. She's asleep in an instance and my brother, trapped under her weight, is soon to follow. The sun falls away behind the dunes, finally allowing the cooling touch of night to pass over the desert. I walk to the top of a sandy hill and look across the wastes. Somewhere out there Aang is probably curled up in a shaking ball, crying for his lost friend. If there was some certain way to find him, _any_ way, I wouldn't stop walking until I did. But walking on blindly when we were all exhausted was stupid. My body's shaking, it's so desperate for sleep.

After a while I walk back to where my friends are and notice that Zuko has sat down a good twenty feet from the others. Because he thinks no one is watching, he's allowed himself to bury his head in his arms. His body is shaking, too, probably from sobs.

"Zuko," I say softly, going over to sit beside him.

He bristles but doesn't look up. "Leave," he growls, the cutting word warning me to back off.

"I won't," I say, and I mean it.

"_Leave. _Please, _Katara_," he begs. His voice breaks on my name. "I need to be alone right now." His fists are shaking and I'm sure they're about to burn with a sudden fire, flames that will reflect on his face and eyes and tears. I know this, but I also know something else.

Looking back over your life, I think every person will easily pick out at least ten dozen moments when he or she was at a fork that didn't look like a fork at the time. It looked like a simple one-way decision when it was happening, but later you look back and point and say _yes, this is the moment when things could have been different. Right here, right at this moment, because this wasn't just another moment but _the _moment. The one that could have changed everything. _

Such times are common as dirt when you look back in hindsight, but to realize something like that right when you are experiencing it is a very rare thing. To understand you are experiencing _the _moment is a spirit-given wisdom, because in realizing a moment is happening you have an important power: to decide. I know, right now, that I can choose to walk away and lie with Toph and Sokka and Momo. But there is another choice, and I know the spirits mean for me to lean my face down against Zuko's back and grab hold of his shirt with my fingers. I hold on and don't let go even when I feel him turn his burning eyes on me. Not even when his hand comes suddenly at my face. I stare right into Zuko's shirt and don't even flinch, ready for his fist to leave a mark across my cheek. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. And even if I am, I'll never give up on a person who needs me as Zuko needs me right now.

But instead of flames, his fingers gently come to rest on the curve of my jaw. The shock of his calm touch leaves me with a harder impact than could a slap with a hand bathed in fire, and I look up.

The darkness of early evening is softened up by moonlight spilled everywhere. It pours into his hair and bathes it slightly silver. It pales his scar so it looks a little more like it's a normal part of his face, which it's slowly becoming for me. Zuko turns to face me properly so we're both sitting there looking at each other with just the span of his arm to bridge the gap. He doesn't say anything but doesn't move his hand away, either. It's like he's contemplating the long road that brought us together to this place.

"We're going to find your uncle," I say. "We're going to get all of our friends back."

When he finally lets go it's to lie down on his back in the sand. He looks up at the sky and I take that as my cue to go. I get up, but his hand on my ankle stops me.

"Katara," he says, a little life restored to his whisper. "You . . . don't actually have to leave." As much of a plea as I can expect.

I check to make sure Sokka and Toph are still curled together a small distance away. Then I lie down beside him, the two of us not actually touching but close enough that if I close my eyes I can pretend I feel the heat radiating off him. The absolute heat of his determination to find his uncle. To find Appa. To find Aang.

All of the stars look down on us from above, older than any of us here looking up. Older even than the dunes and the sands. They are like tiny dots, the ones you connect when you look back on your life from a distant future. But here is the funny thing about connecting the dots: you can only do that after all the pieces have fallen into place. There's no predicting how the dots will match up looking forward, so the thing to do in life is just to trust that they'll all connect somehow. Lying here with Zuko so close, I close my eyes and trust that despite our dwindling supplies the dots will connect just right.


	11. Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 10

_A/N: At last we come to the final installment of the first part of this journey. Here in the desert we see the very initial sparks of what will eventually become Zutara—although Katara won't actually even begin to acknowledge her affection for Zuko as romantic until late in the third part ("From What I've Tasted of Desire"). To conclude this first part, I feel it's appropriate to publically acknowledge a theory/question that has been PMed to me by several different fellow FFNers. In the introduction, I state that ". . . in the end, it will be a death that determines the fate of [Zutara]." Some are wondering if Iroh's death is the one I had in mind, since he did get captured by the sandbenders. All I'm going to say is that Iroh's fate will be revealed in the third part of the saga. 'Till then, like Katara, you will be left to wonder. _

_ Now, a word of caution: the conclusion to this chapter follows canon events quite closely, so not too much surprising here. This is, however, probably the last chapter in which you can expect something so similar to the show. Beginning with the next chapter, nothing will be as you anticipate. Get excited. For example, rather than traveling through a certain Serpant's Pass by foot, we shall be taking a very special (and very dangerous) ship on its maiden voyage—a little something called the B.S.S. Titan. _

_As always, thank you to everyone who has expressed thoughts about the story. In reviewing this final chapter of the first part, I have a special request. Before I begin on "Some Say in Ice," I'm going to reassess my plans for the upcoming section based on what you guys have liked, not liked, etc. in this current part. So if you have specific comments about overall pacing of this part as a whole (too much happened, not enough happened, too fast, too slow, there was an excess of boring philosophy, etc.), kindly include those as well in your review of this chapter. And now, enough delaying—on to the story!_

I wake to Zuko's hands shaking me and open my eyes to a splatter of stars in the still-dark sky. His face is bent over mine. "Aang's back," he says.

Toph and Sokka have already crowded around the place where the airbender is kneeling in the sand. I push past Zuko and run to wrap my arms around his shoulders to offer what small comfort I can. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"It doesn't matter," he says at the ground. "We can't survive without Appa."

I pull him to his feet. "As long as we're working together we can get out here. Right, you guys?"

"Checklist time," Toph says, ticking off on her fingers. "No food, almost no water, trapped in a giant sand bowl. I'm kind of with Twinkletoes."

"It's like a giant bowl of sand pudding!" Sokka yells, letting us know he still hasn't recovered from that cactus juice. I grab him before he throws himself at the ground and starts licking up the sand.

"I spent three years navigating out at sea. I know the stars pretty well," Zuko says. "Since we'll be traveling at night, we can use them to guide us. Let's get going, and on the way we can have breakfast."

"Breakfast?" I echo, not sure if our meal is supposed to be sand or some occasional scattered stones.

Zuko goes back over to where the two of us shared a space of sand and holds up a fried jackalope. "They're nocturnal. It was tasting your hair braid when I woke up," he tells me. He hands each of us a strip of meat and even tries to force some onto Aang.

"If Appa were here, you'd try to eat him too!" the airbender yells.

"Veggies only, remember?" I gently remind Zuko. "Here, Aang—have the first sip of water." He reluctantly lets me guide some into his mouth. We start walking, all of us but the airbender munching on some meat strips. Each taste is bitter against my tongue, each bite one that Aang can't have. But I'm not so stupid to refuse food when I need to keep my strength up for all of our sakes. Somewhere along the way we'll find something for him to eat, too.

Zuko leads us again, but this time he keeps looking back as if checking to make sure we're keeping up. We walk the rest of the night that way, keeping an eye out for clouds or cactuses or anything else that looks like water. Shortly before sunrise, I let Toph have the last drink from my water skin.

"No more left?" she asks, her voice pleading.

I shake my head. "No, but we're going to find some! We'll . . . figure something out. For now, let's all get some sleep."

Aang lies down and curls up together with Momo, but we all know he's pretending. How could he get any sleep when his best friend's still lost somewhere to sandbenders? Sokka and Toph flop over on top of each other, knocked out by exhaustion.

"Katara, wait," Zuko says. "I have an idea about the water. Come on."

We walk a little way from the group. "Are we looking for something?" I ask.

"We passed by a rocky outcropping about ten minutes ago, but I didn't think about the water problem until now. My uncle taught me some survival tricks for anywhere I go. In the desert, if you flip a rock over just before dawn a few drops of water will form on the cold bottom surface. We just need to be careful about scorpion spiders."

"That sounds pleasant," I say, but my heart skips a beat when I see the rocks he meant coming up in the distance. We spend half an hour turning over rocks to fill the water skin. When we return to the group, I walk past Aang to see if he's asleep. His glassy eyes are wide open.

"I'm going to stay right here tonight—er, today I guess," I tell Zuko, lying down beside Aang.

The firebender almost hesitates, but then he says _okay_ and walks a few feet from us to sit down alone in the sand. I get down next to Aang, but as soon as I do he rolls away as a clear warning of _leave me alone right now_. I want to pull him into a hug and tell him how we're all going to make it out of here, but saying that again won't change his firm resolution. Instead I reach for his hand and squeeze it. As if I can infuse him with some of my hope through simple pressure.

But Aang rips his hand free and stalks a few feet away. He sits down again with the glider staff across his knees and looks out at the rising sun. I see him in profile, the light painted orange across his cheeks. Filling up the deep lines grief has carved into his face. Marking up the places where tears would run if only his body had the water left to cry.

"Katara." Zuko's looking at me from all that distance away where he sat. "You need to get some sleep."

"I need to—"

"Whatever it is, it can wait. You're the only thing holding the team together."

That's a lot of weight to drop down on a person's shoulders, but Zuko's words hold even more than what hits me right off. I lie down to rest and it's only when I look up at the wide, empty sky that I realize he's passed over a great trust to me. After the next sunset comes and goes and we start walking again, he no longer travels ahead of us. He keeps up the quick pace, determined as ever, but now he walks beside me so the two of us are both leading. The two of us leading together. We follow the stars and gather water from stones and food from passing jackalopes and cacti filled with liquid that isn't milky, meaning according to Iroh's survival guidance it's safe to eat.

We travel two nights this way. On the third, we've gone an hour before Sokka flops over on his face. "That's it," he says. "I've had it. We're doomed without Appa and I'm done with this pointless walking. It's getting us nowhere but _more_ lost!"

"I know exactly where I'm going," Zuko says, turning back. "Get up. We're doing fine."

"Fine? _Fine?_ Oh, you're right. It is going just _fine_—for you, anyway!" Sokka gets up and jabs a finger at Zuko's chest. "You've had this little plan ever since the library, haven't you?"

Zuko blinks. "Plan?"

"To get us all killed out here! If we die, the Earth King won't ever hear about the solar eclipse and your precious innocent Fire Nation won't get invaded."

"Sokka—" I start, but he cuts me right off.

"And you know what else?" my brother shouts. "I bet you made a deal with those sandbenders to come steal Appa and pretend to take your uncle away. So when we die, your uncle will come save you—hey, hey, _hey!_"

I think Zuko's faintly aware that this might be the aftermath of the cactus juice talking, but that doesn't stop him from grabbing Sokka by the shirt and closing the distance between their faces to an inch. "Don't you _ever _say that I wouldhurt my friends. Is _that_"—he points at Aang whose eyes are searching the wastes for something we can't see, like maybe a memory of Appa from the past—"what I would do? Why would I _ever _leave my uncle?"

My brother pushes the firebender off. "Yeah, threaten your way out of this one. I know you'd be happy if we never reach Ba-Sing—"

"Sokka. Zuko." I force my way between them and push them apart. "This isn't the time to be fighting. We can discuss what we're going to do about the Fire Nation when we get out of here."

Toph sits right down. "Might as well do it now. I'm not going anywhere."

"No, Toph . . . please, you need to get up," I beg.

"I'm tired," she says. "I'm done walking."

Aang doesn't say anything, but his glare at the back of Toph's head might as well scream _see, you do only care about yourself_.

"Toph." Zuko offers her a hand. "Please, get up."

"My feet hurt and I can't see anything and Sokka's right. We're not getting out of here without Appa." She falls over on her back. "We're not getting out."

Sokka sits down beside her and they stay there together in the sand, both tired, both angry, and then Aang throws up a gust of sand with his glider and sits down too. I look at Zuko, who just stands there looking at the three of them as the minutes slip past. He seems confused, as if some strange vision has passed across his eyes. Or maybe, like even I am in some small way, he's being to feel something like an absolute pointlessness to all of this. As if all we're making now is a series of motions with no meaning because they've already lost hope and there's only so much the two of us can still carry. Or maybe—and this is the maybe I'm most afraid of—there's rage building inside this firebender, an anger he'll unleash in lightning or a curtain of fire on our friends.

But all he does is kneel and gently scoop Toph into his arms. He looks at Sokka. He looks at Aang. "Do whatever you want, but I'm not giving up on my uncle or Appa," he tells them.

Carrying Toph, he walks off across the sands.

My brother grumbles but staggers after him. Aang walks past me, too, dragging his staff across the sand. I stay behind a moment longer, considering the look that had passed across Zuko's face when he lifted Toph up. Part rage, part grief, part resignation, but nothing like defeat. I follow in the rear, wondering how much farther Zuko's strength could take us. Wondering if he'd been wrong about the thing that held this team together.

We go on for a few more hours, taking turns drinking from my water skin. And as morning approaches on this third night of travel, we see something sticking out of the ground a far way out. Some kind of giant rock.

"Let's make camp over there," I suggest, meaning the base of the rock.

Twenty more minutes of walking has us standing in a shadow cast across the sands. Sokka and Toph curl up together, hugging Momo between them. Aang lies down and finally starts up snoring, his body's needs beating out his stubborn streak.

Zuko sits on the edge of our little gathering of people like a protective father. He looks at me as I come over. He watches me sit down beside him. "That was . . . something else," I say, trying to sum up my thoughts on him carrying Toph across hours and hours of travel and bolstering Aang and Sokka for one more day of walking.

"I don't know how much more we can take," he admits. Sweat has beaded on his face despite the dawn chill.

"With you around? Almost anything, I'd say. Hey, uh . . . you didn't have to help us, but I'm glad you chose to," I say, something I've been meaning to properly express for a while. "And not just now. I mean, from the beginning."

"Oh, when I hunted down the Avatar. That was helping, too?" he asks, but now he's smiling.

I could just smile back and end it there, but instead I lean my head against his shoulder. I feel him pull back as if such a strange thing has never happened to him, a friend leaning on him for support. But I don't move my head away. I close my eyes and enjoy a wind that falls across my face. A breeze that moves over all of us, moving across the wastes to where Appa and Iroh are waiting for us to find them.

Suddenly I feel eyes on my face and look to see Aang watching me. I guess he wasn't as tired as I thought, or else some stirring feeling made him wake again. His eyes are asking me a question, though I don't know what he's wondering. As soon as he sees me looking, he rolls over so I can't see his face again. I make a move to get up, but Zuko holds me down with his arm on my shoulder.

"You can stay," he says, misunderstanding what made me stir.

I look between them, between Aang and Zuko, and it's one of those crossroads moments. The one where you have a chance to choose the path you follow.

Because I'm halfway sitting anyway, I scoot back against the firebender's shoulder. This time he leaves his arm around me, an arm that tells me he'll keep me safe. He'll keep all of us safe. It occurs to me that years from now I'll probably wonder what might have been if I'd stood and gone to sleep by Aang, but I trust in that connect-the-dots future enough to stay with Zuko.

"I'm glad we're friends," I tell him.

He nods. I don't see him nod, but I feel the movement of his chin against my head. This is what I remember: Zuko nodding. And then I'm washed into sleep.

When I wake up next, it's to shouting.

A piece of rock flies past me. It rips through the sail of one of a dozen boats sitting out in the middle of . . . the desert?

"Katara, get up!" Sokka yells, and this is when I realize it's no longer just the team here. Men shielded from the harsh noon sun in cloth the color of sand surround us. One of the older men steps forward and clenches his fists as he surveys the wreck of the sand-sailer left from Toph's boulder.

"You attacked us. What are you doing out here?" the man calls.

Sokka takes Toph's hand because she still can't see on the sand. If I had to guess, that's probably what happened: she felt something coming while still half-asleep and flung a rock just to be on the safe side. Apparently sandbenders don't take kindly to having their sand-sailers crushed. Zuko steps out to meet the man. "Who are you?" he yells.

"As the stranger, _you _should answer first!"

"We're traveling with the Avatar," I say before Zuko feels threatened enough to draw a weapon, be it swords or fire. "Our bison was stolen and we're just trying to get to Ba-Sing-Se."

A younger sandbender joins the first one. "They're foreigners," he says quietly, though I'm close enough to hear. "We should be careful in believing them."

I notice my brother glance down at Toph. She's suddenly squeezing his hand more tightly than before.

"Quiet, Gashuin. I will decide about these strangers."

The younger one dips his head. "Sorry, father."

"I know him!" Toph says, pointing at the son. "He's the one who stole Appa. I never forget a voice."

Aang comes between us and the sandbenders. "You took Appa," he says, his voice burned with anger. He raises his staff. "What did you do to him?"

"Appa?" The older man shrugs. "I don't know who that is."

The airbender swings his staff and blows back a sand-sailer with a blast of air. "Where's my bison?" he yells at the younger sandbender, presumably Gashuin. I try to imagine the sudden surge of anger, the overwhelming pain, the outrage beyond control that's ripping apart his usual restraints. That would feed his voice with such fire.

"What did you do?" the older sandbender whispers.

Gashuin backs away, shaking. "Nothing, I didn't do—"

"You said to put a muzzle on him," Toph says, and those words fall across all of us with a great precision. I hear the word _muzzle_ and I see the dark shadow pass across Aang's face and I know what's coming. The end of everything.

"You _muzzled_ Appa!" Aang snarls in a voice I've only heard a few times before. The black grief that fuels the Avatar's rage is enough to make the sandbenders cower.

"Avatar, we didn't hurt him!" Gashuin cries. "I traded him to some merchants! They're probably taking him to Ba-Sing-Se—please, we'll take you out of the desert! We'll do what whatever we can!"

But the glow that has passed across Aang's eyes and arrow let me know he can't hear them now. Somewhere very far off I hear Sokka yelling for us to run, to get out of here. I see him grab Toph by the shoulders and Momo by the tail, but it's as if they're in a very distant world I'm no longer part of. My friends run. The sandbenders run. The sands themselves probably wish they could run, but they are sucked into the spinning air around the Avatar. A sigh escapes me because I know I need to run, too, but somehow instead of running away I run toward him. Fierce wind gusts me back, but I slowly push my way through it. I need to reach the Avatar. I need to reach Aang.

"Katara, come back!"

Zuko's pushing through the wind toward me. His fists guard his face from flying sand, his mouth set in a firm line. He reaches me and grabs my arm to drag me back. "We need to get out of here," he tells me, but I only shake my head.

"You go. I'm going to get Aang."

I pull my arm away and move toward the airbender where he's hovering at the heart of the searing winds. I grab his wrist and he turns the blackness of his anger and the blackness of his hate on me in a gaze that cuts me through. It cuts me right down to a single emotion: a great sadness that fills up my face. Suddenly he looks away and I see he's turned his glare on Zuko, who has followed my lead by grabbing Aang's other wrist. Across the sweep of wind and sand and hate and anger there he is standing, the firebender who promised we'd all get out of here together. The two of us bring Aang back to the ground and I hug the airbender around the shoulders. The wind lessens as Zuko wraps his arms around both of us, he and I doing our best to hold onto Aang. Tears come down from his glowing eyes. Tears come from the Avatar's eyes because some types of grief can move across a single person's life and across hundreds of past lives, all crying over this one moment of nearly unendurable heartbreak.

But I don't let go of Aang and Zuko doesn't let go of either of us, not until the wind finally dies down. The Avatar state passes and then it's just us three again, the little airbender's head resting against me and my head resting against Zuko's. But even then I don't let go of Aang, and Zuko keeps his arms around us. We stay there together until Sokka and Toph and Momo and the sandbenders gather back around us, the noon sun pouring across the sands.


	12. Some Say in Ice: 1

_A/N: So thanks to all of your helpful guidance and suggestions (for example, the fabulous JackieStarSister correctly noted that I omitted having anyone ask about Iroh in the previous chapter, which I will correct within the next few days), it seems like this fanfic has been initiated into the "Save the Fandom: Avatar Fics that are actually GOOD" community (yay!). I'd like to also thank/credit the amazing flutflutflyer for his suggestion about Iroh getting captured by the sandbenders—he and I discussed that part of the story before I wrote it, so all praise goes to him for that awesome plot twist. Per your suggestions in the review section, expect to see more of Zuko's friendship with other members of the team (some Zuko/Toph is coming in the next chapter) and a little more Kataang in this second part. We're also going to see more characters from the canon coming into play fairly soon, including the fabulous trio of Ozai's Angels and a young woman who will capture our favorite firebender's heart for many chapters. _

_This update was delayed by my need to write eight from-scratch drafts of my personal statement for medical school until I finally settled on a good one. Please note that this is going to be a short chapter and that beginning next chapter is when the pace will really pick and we'll get some action, I promise (and the next longer update will be on June 6 or June 7). I just can't do more right now because I still have my work/activities section to fill out for my med school app (I'm super excited to be applying on June 5—wish me luck, please!). Also: I'm always looking for well-written Zutara one-shots and longer stories to read. If you have suggestions of quality fanfics, please PM me story and author names so I can check them out (I've already gotten good suggestions from a few of you which I will check out after June 5—thank you!). Two stories I would personally like to endorse are Boogum's "The Undying Fire" and flutflutflyer's "Scarf," both true masterpieces. If you haven't read them yet, go do it now. Otherwise you're missing out on life. _

_Oh, and one last thing: Would you guys prefer shorter, more frequent updates like this one or longer, less frequent updates where more happens per chapter? _

Earlier in the afternoon the sandbenders left us at a canyon not far from the edge of the desert. Three hours ago we found a shallow pool and the waterfall feeding into it, and on the shore a few large smooth stones. Zuko sat down on one of the stones and peered into the water as if trying to see through the ripples falling across the surface to some answer or meaning beneath. Then he crossed his legs into a meditation position and rested his palms on his knees. Three hours later, he has yet to stir.

"Would it help if I went over there and poked him?" Sokka asks, taking out his boomerang. The remaining members of the team, including me, are sitting on the opposite side of the pool.

"Leave him alone," Toph says, elbowing my brother in the ribs.

"All right, all right! I'm just saying." Sokka stashes his weapon away. "He was our star map through the desert, and now he's got our map to Ba-Sing-Se." He's referring to the map of the Earth Kingdom we got from the sandbenders, which Zuko safely tucked away into the sash around his waist.

"I think he needs some time to cool off," I say.

Toph kicks off her shoes. "I think we _all_ need some time to cool off. Who's up for a splash-off?"

My brother jumps up and strips down to the waist. "Me me me! Water bomb!" he yells, taking a running leap at the pool. Toph laughs as the water breaks across all of us in a wave. A drenched Zuko's hands tighten to fists, but he doesn't move from his vigil by the water.

Beside me, Aang laughs as Sokka splashes water over both our faces. It's one of the first genuine smiles I've seen from him since we lost Appa and Iroh. "Katara, are you coming?" he calls, dipping his toes into the pool.

"Later," I tell him, getting up. "I'm going to take a walk."

He glances at Toph and Sokka slapping water at each other in the shallows. "Can I come with you?" he asks, falling into step beside me.

I nod, the only response I can muster. We're thinking the same thing but neither of us will say it, each waiting for the other to bring it up first. His hand brushes mine and I think he's asking for permission to hold it. Shy, sweet Aang with the faintest touch of a blush on his cheeks. We keep walking, stepping over some stones in our path, wandering through the canyon without speaking. Evening isn't far off and some insects have already started to fill up the air with their singing.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Mostly fine. A little worried, to be honest."

He nods, knowing exactly which part of life I'm not so fine with. "Me, too."

I don't know when he finally gathered the courage to take my hand, but our two hands are linked together now. His fingers tighten around mine. I squeeze back. "I know we're going to find them, but in Iroh's case . . . I'm just thinking about Zuko. How he's going to be okay in the meantime, you know?"

We make a u-turn around a boulder to start the return trip, both thinking back to the sandbenders and the journey here to the canyon. Our team traveled on one of the sand-sailers along with Gashuin and his father, who introduced himself as Sha-Mo.

_Where's my uncle? _Zuko asked.

Gashuin squinted. _Your . . . uncle? Ah, the old man. _

_What happened to him? _

_On behalf of my people, accept my apology_. Sha-Mo tried to rest a hand on Zuko's shoulder, the firebender broke away from the touch. _We didn't realize he was a friend of the Avatar. We . . . _

My stomach turned over. His hesitation and Gashuin's gaze fixed down on the floor let me know we'd come to the place in the story we all would probably prefer to make up our own lies about rather than hear what really happened. This is the funny thing about truth: often you think there is something you want to know, but the minute it comes out in the open all you can think about is clearing it out of memory. Truth can be a curse on your life, but you don't know if truth is the thing that will save or kill you and so you have to pick it up in place of the lies you'd like to believe. Like the lie Zuko held in his heart that his uncle was safe with the sandbenders, right up until Sha-Mo sighed and gently pinched the bridge of his nose. His sigh floated down to the floor and broke silently against it.

_We left him behind in the sands, _he said.

_I'm sorry, _he said.

"Katara?"

Aang's hand waving in front of my face grounds me back in the present world. I blink like I'm seeing him for the first time. "What?" I say.

"I said, at least Zuko's got us. Aren't you always saying we'll take care of each other?"

I nod. "And we will. I'm just saying, imagine how tough it must be not knowing where his uncle is. At least with Appa, we know he'll probably be somewhere in Ba-Sing-Se." Realizing what I've just said, I quickly backtrack. "Er, I mean—"

"Katara, it's okay." We're almost back at the pool, but Aang steps in my path to stop us. "I was upset about losing Appa earlier, but right now I'm just focused on getting to the Earth King so we can tell him about the eclipse. And on finding Iroh."

"Maybe he'll be in Ba-Sing-Se, too."

We go a little further until the pool comes into view in the distance. I suddenly want the water. I want to strip down to my wrappings and dive in, to feel the wildness of the waterfall coming down across my shoulders. Turn my face up to the foam and the slap of water and for just one minute forget everything that had brought us here.

"Oh, uh . . . Katara?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For the desert. For calming me down and stuff."

"Hey, no problem. I'm just glad you were okay."

"No, really. You saved a lot of lives." A pause. Then: "Even mine."

Aang looks at me across the gathering redness of light from the sunset, his usual energy replaced by a very serious, thoughtful calm.

"Katara?"

We're still holding hands, had been holding hands for the past ten minutes. He fixes his eyes right on mine and doesn't look away, but neither does he make a move toward me. Like he had been intent on doing something and at the very end lost the courage.

"Yeah?"

At my prompt, his mouth takes on its usual smile and he looks at the ground like he's found something very interesting in the dirt. I don't admit to the heat that rushed into my body, though I think he feels a little of it too. I keep meaning to talk to him about something, a thing I too lose the courage to bring up every time: exactly what happened in the Cave of Two Lovers between us. Exactly what those moments in the dark might have meant for the future.

"I just . . . we'll get the map from Zuko tomorrow morning and will figure out a way to Ba-Sing-Se from there. With luck we'll find both our friends there. Uh . . . good night!" he says, despite the fact that it's not even that dark yet. I think it's mostly because he's so nervous about the thing he does next, which is jump up and press a kiss to my cheek. Just the faintest touch of his lips to skin. Then he runs off to find Toph and Sokka, who are lying out on the shore with their faces turned up to the sky.

I stand there and am suddenly conscious of everything. I'm aware of my own dog-pant quick breathing. Of how the clouds look with red light rimming them. Of the sounds of the waterfall pouring into everywhere, taking up all the space in my ears. There's the rock where Zuko was sitting. Where he _was_ meditating.

"Hey."

I know it's the firebender's voice behind me because I see all of the others, even Momo, down by the pool. His face looks bent inward. I guess it's all that inner grief sucking him up.

"Hey," I echo, attempting a smile. I don't bother asking if he's okay because there's clear enough. Zuko's blank eyes are on me, like he's seeing something I'm not. It's a reminder that the person who thinks death in the scariest thing there is doesn't know anything about the world. If Iroh were dead his nephew could be at peace with that knowledge, knowing there's nothing more that can be done and that his uncle's in a better place. But knowing his uncle is maybe alive, probably suffering, is the thing that's gotten inside of him most. That's the way of maybe-loss, to crawl inside and rip a person to pieces with worry.

"We're going to find your uncle. I promise. You said yourself he taught you survival tricks for anywhere you go. If anyone can make it out of there alive, it's him."

Zuko takes a moment to consider that. He nods, and it looks like a little light's restored to his eyes. "And if we're going to find him anywhere, it's Ba-Sing-Se. He talked about settling in that city after the war. He even tried to convince me to stay with him there. Maybe open a tea shop together."

Suddenly I realize that the light in Zuko's eyes is actually the reflection of the dying sun off his tears. Off the tears of memory, of fear, of grief.

"When we get through this, we can all settle there. Can't you see Aang running the counter?"

Despite the tears, Zuko breaks out in a rare smile. It's probably because, like me, he imagined Aang handing out free tea to every customer who came in with thirst but no money. Not that I'd be too different.

"Or we could put my brother in charge," I add. "He'll have fun flirting with the girls who come in."

"I think"—Zuko lays a hand on my shoulder—"we should get an early night."

"Huh? It's not even dark. I was going to go for a swim."

"Tomorrow. Tonight, get to bed early."

"How come?"

He leans over as if to adjust his shoes and casually rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. It's to clear those tears off, of course, though he won't admit it. I use the moment to look up at the sad light of sunset. How it had consumed the whole sky.

"We're getting up early tomorrow. Before sunrise."

"Should I tell everyone? Have you picked a road to Ba-Sing-Se?"

"I'm going to talk to Sokka about that after breakfast. This is just for us."

"What's for us?"

Zuko walks past me towards the pool. Beyond him, the sunset light has collected in moving pockets of light on the waterfall. He turns to look at me. "I promised to show you some sword moves sometime, didn't I?" he says, quietly enough that the others probably don't hear. "Before sunrise tomorrow, I'll show you what I do before the rest of you even wake up in the morning."

He leaves me with that promise hovering between us, and I wonder what it will be like. Katara the healer, sword-training. I stand there and wonder, just my thoughts and quick breathing and the falling light.


	13. Some Say in Ice: 2

_A/N: Four things. One: I lied_ _(but not on purpose . . . forgiveness?). I promised you guys lots of action in this chapter but then decided to revise the plan for part two a bit, so now you have to wait until next chapter (I also still need to fix the Iroh part in Part One: 10). Instead, you get something more important (explained next). Two: this chapter represents what I will call _The First Shift_, Katara's first actual acknowledgement of Zutara even though she doesn't entirely understand what she's feeling. To set it apart from all of the ordinary chapters, it has a unique opening and conclusion that I hope isn't too weird._ _Three: no, I'm not suddenly switching to second-person on a permanent basis. This is only for parts of this one chapter. So no worries if you're like "eww, second-person." Four: as of 9:30 AM on June 5, I am officially a medical school applicant. Sweetness. _

This was how it felt to be me when I woke up in the morning.

You don't immediately understand why you're being shaken awake when moonlight still falls across your sleeping place by the pool. Your first thought is: an attack. Water courses into your outstretched hand, called by the force of bending that moves you as much as you move it. The coil of water crystallizes into ice, then melts back into just water as you realize it's only a familiar firebender at your side. The water splashes across his face, across his hands because he raised them to protect himself from your ice attack. You notice that he didn't draw his swords or kindle fire in his palms. He only raised his hands, an instinctive response. Probably this is because he didn't feel threatened, not even by your ice. The water you channeled wasn't a danger because he knows you two were friends and you would never, ever hurt him. This is the kind of promise a bond like friendship brings.

As you follow this firebender out of camp, you look back and see your other friends curled up together in a ring of warmth around the pool.

This is you and Momo: Two living beings whose interactions can be simply summarized. You feed and pet him, he sits on your head and chews through the ropes holding you prisoner against a tree.

This is you and Toph: Two teammates whose dynamic probably makes others raise their eyebrows and wonder how you both can exist on the same planet together without ripping each other to shred. You two represent the meeting of equally strong women and didn't mesh well together at first, coming at odd about what it meant to be part of the team. But you're beginning to make room for one another. You are even beginning to admire the kind of confidence Toph exudes.

This is you and Sokka: Two siblings who clash because your serious and caring nature doesn't piece well together with his goofiness and sarcasm. Your opposing attitudes keep each other in check, but even if he were the most annoying brother in the world (and he sometimes is), you would not hesitate to defend him with your life. You two have gone through so much together, from losing your mother to coming this long way with the Avatar. You love him beyond all reason, even if he likes to tease you about your love life.

This is you and Aang: Two friends who are more than friends. Two benders bonded by destiny. Brought together by an iceberg and a coincidence, except you know there are no coincidences. That you _happened _to be the one who freed him from a hundred years of ice is no accident at all but a fated moment. In fact, everything in life—that moment and all the others before and after—has led you both to this exact place in life. In the circumstances of the Cave of Two Lovers and the desert and even now this resting place by the pool, you are beginning to understand why you might see Aang as more than just your friend. You like him. You actually really like him. You don't know how deep that liking goes just yet or what it might mean, but the affection is more than passing. You look forward to his hugs. His cheek kisses make flames curl up in your belly and run laps in your chest. Sometimes you think about the war ending and the things that may come after. Sometimes these things burn your face hotter than Zuko's fire.

Oh, and of course.

There is you and that firebender.

This is you and Zuko: First enemies, then reluctant teammates, now warming up to each as friends. He stands alone in your mind, apart from the rest of the team. You have built a legend around his past, around his skills with swords and fire. He is the prince of the hated Fire Nation. He is the boy with the scar. He was the face of your enemy, but now his face interests you in a different way. You wonder about the scar. You wonder about his eyes and how they catch the fire he summons. You wonder what this sword lesson will be like, just the two of you alone in the canyon far from camp. The two of you, alone. It frightens you a little that _alone_ is an idea that makes you hesitate because you aren't afraid to be alone with Momo or Toph or Sokka or Aang. You even like the idea of aloneness with them on occasion. But Zuko is different. Zuko stands alone in your mind. Because you have seen Zuko as both an enemy and a friend, you know him whole—and it is this intimate knowledge, more than his company, that terrifies you most. Probably this is the thing that makes you more cautious in the firebender's company. The thing that instinctively brings your fingers to your hair loopies to make sure they're well groomed. The reason you want to impress him in this sword lesson, in every moment of your life. Because if _you_ see _Zuko_ whole, so does he see you as such. You wonder what he thinks of you. You wonder why you wonder what he thinks of you.

This is you, alone: Telling yourself you need to use the word _wonder_ less often. You wake up to wonders every day, so why is it you should wonder about anything anymore. There are too many surprises in the world. Better to just wait and let them come how they want.

This is also you, alone: Telling yourself that you know exactly how you relate to everyone else on the team. Convincing yourself these dynamics, laid firmly in place, will always be as they are now.

This was how it felt to be me when I woke up in the morning.

* * *

We finally stop by a place beside a small trickle of water for a river, just a few boulders scattered around us. I try to work out why Zuko carried two long sticks out here until he throws one at me. I grab it out of reflex.

"What's this?" I ask.

He assumes a stance I've never seen used for bending. "Defend yourself," he tells me.

Huh? "We're not using your swords?"

"Master wooden ones first. Now—defend yourself!"

"Wait, wait!" I yell, throwing up my hands. "Aren't you going to show me some sword moves first?"

"Let's see what you can improvise."

"Don't I need two of these? You know, _dual _dao?"

But Zuko's done talking. He circles around me, focusing on my feet and then sweeping his gaze higher to my eyes. We face each other for a moment before he leaps at me, swinging his stick. I swing out wildly in defense and miss his stick completely. His attack smacks me across the shoulder—and not lightly. I stumble, rubbing my arm.

"Watch it," I growl.

"_You _watch it. Sword masters face tough enemies. That would've cut the left half of you off. Wood won't do that, but you can't walk away from training without a few bruises."

Almost before he's through lecturing, I charge at him with an attack of my own. He easily deflects the swing and lunges at my chest. This time I'm faster in raising a defense, but he's still quicker. I yelp as wood smashes my ribs.

"You can't do better?" he says.

"Oh, ha," I choke out weakly, rubbing my side. "The great swordmaster Zuko overwhelming a waterbender who's never fought with a weapon. _So_ impressive."

He backs off a few feet. "This is _nothing_. Training can be much worse."

"Oh, that Piandao guy used a real sword on you from the start?"

Zuko looks off across the canyon so his scarred eye is turned away. "I meant in general. It gets worse than swords and water. Now—ready?"

My answer is leaping back as he comes at me with his stick raised. I duck to miss the attack and swing at his head. Suddenly I'm reminded of my bending, how brute force often gives way to cleverness, and angle the stick at the final moment to meet his legs instead. The smack of wood on wood lets me know he's blocked the attack, but he's grinning. "Better," he tells me. "You're learning."

We go a few more rounds before he lets me rest for a minute. My breathing is back to dog-pant quick even though he hasn't broken so much as a sweat. He calmly watches me from his place on a boulder as I splash water across my face. I'm started to understand why he trains before the sun comes up while it's still cool.

"This is just a warm-up," he tells me. "Starting tomorrow we're training every morning if you actually want to learn. I'm taking it very easy on you right now. Get good fast because that's not going to last long."

I don't expect he'd ever reduce me to a bleeding, limping, bruised mess, but you can never be too sure with Zuko when it comes to something like training. With him, it's all or nothing. Winner take all, especially in fights. Which reminds me . . .

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did, but sure. What is it?"

I take a breath and trap it down in my lungs. Now or never. "So . . . that scar. Did you get it from firebending training? Or a fight with someone?"

He places a hand to the mark and looks pasts me at the stream. His eyes reveal nothing of what's happening behind them. Of what he's thinking or the long journey he's looking back on.

"Kind of a fight," he says. Then he looks at me, and it's one of the most cutting looks that's ever been turned on me. Like the one time Iroh and I were sitting by a river, too, and I felt like the old man's amber eyes were seeing right into my soul. Maybe it runs in his family. Or maybe that's how firebenders decide if you're worth trusting with deep truths, the kinds that crack another person's life wide open for you to peek into.

"My father gave this to me," he says.

I stare, waiting for more, but apparently that's all I'm getting this morning. He lays his own stick down beside mine where I left it on the ground. "That's enough for today, except I did promise to show you some sword moves." He unsheathes his real swords. "Do you remember how I trapped you after you saw me and my uncle practicing lightning?"

I nod. Oh, I sure do remember.

"Here's how it's done."

He slowly goes through an exaggerated motion, and I try to memorize the form so I can use it against him when I finally get two sticks to work with. There's something about swords that catches my breath. Or maybe it's just us training together.

Wait . . .

Before I can fully process what just passed across my mind, Zuko comes at me again. He runs behind me and leaps forward, crossing the swords at my throat again to show off the move and make sure I'm not distracted. Just like before. Everything like before.

Everything except for one small, minor detail.

* * *

This is how it feels to be me, right now.

Metal like ice touches under your chin, a blade that with the smallest twitch of its owner's hand could slit your throat open. You lift your head up, a natural reflex to get away from the swords, but they follow you higher and trap you again. The stars burn into your eyes. Sweat comes down in a narrow line along your cheekbone, or maybe it's a tear because you're so terrified you can't breathe. You have, in fact, never been so afraid in your entire life.

Not because of the swords. They, in fact, are a joke compared to what you're actually scared of. To cross his swords over your throat, Zuko had to get right behind you.

His body. Your body. Closer than you intended.

The proximity traps air inside your lungs and keeps it there.

He pulls away in an instant and sheaths his swords, the lesson over. You see him motion for you to follow him back to camp and your legs obey, but some small piece of you is still trapped between the swords at your throat and his chest tight against your back. For some reason this image haunts you, the two of you together in that way. Maybe the moment only lasted just that long, one small moment, but inside your head it goes on and on.

This is why you're afraid: you can't get rid of it.

It haunts your footsteps as you come back to camp and the team sits around breakfast and examines the sandbenders' map. You hear someone mention the _Serpent's Pass _and think this person might be Sokka. The word _Ba-Sing-Se_ passes across your ears several times, but you're only halfway aware of the conversation. You watch Zuko very closely even though he doesn't look at you. You look at his finger pointing to a blue patch on the map. You're aware of everything. You don't know why you're aware of everything. And suddenly you're doing the thing you shouldn't doing again: wondering something you shouldn't be.

This is Zuko and Momo: Two living beings who don't get in each other's way much. The firebender might pat the lemur's head on occasion, as he's doing now, but they don't keep company often. That doesn't mean Zuko minds it much if Momo curls up on his lap.

This is Zuko and Toph: Two teammates who are more than people on the same team. Toph's _good morning _is a playful punch in the arm when he sits down beside her, but he doesn't seem to mind this either. In fact, Zuko returns a friendly smile—and this makes you realize how far he's already come from when you helped his uncle recover from a lightning shot. Probably there is a lot between these two that you have missed in the times you were away from camp with Aang or Sokka or on your own. You think back to the moment in the desert when Zuko picked the earthbender up and carried her across the sands. How he carried her a whole day like that.

This is Zuko and Sokka: Two not-siblings who are regardless similar in many ways—probably even more ways than you realize just yet. They are close in age and so have become the natural leaders of the team for the most part (except that moment when your brother got drunk off cactus juice in the desert and you had to step in to lead in his place). You haven't actually seen them interact much, either, but it's clear from the fact that Sokka just openly snatched some of Zuko's breakfast that they're at least friendly. That your brother then lays out a strip of jerky on the firebender's head means their friendship runs deeper than you thought. It takes a great deal of trust and comfort to tease a friend.

This is Zuko and Aang: Two friends who didn't start out that way at all. For so long the Avatar was the prince's greatest enemy and the most precious of prizes fit for capture, but beginning with something so simple as a rescue they, too, have become much more. Aang hasn't told you a lot about the Blue Spirit ordeal, something you need to ask Zuko more about, but what you do know is that the firebender somehow saved the Avatar from Zhao's clutches. There are probably many moments the two shared that you aren't aware of, maybe even in the desert while you were asleep. Certainly in that one moment when you and Zuko and Aang were all together in the fury of the Avatar state in the desert, the moment when the Avatar's former enemy chose to stand with him rather than run for his life. You wonder if Zuko will tell you the details of these many other encounters, the ones that have made them friends, but thinking about talking to Zuko brings you to the final and most dangerous point. The very thing you shouldn't be wondering about but the thing you can't let go of.

You and him.

The two of you, together.

This is Zuko and you: A mystery. The one friendship whose pulse you can't quite lay a finger on. You thought you knew exactly what kind of dynamic lay between you two, but that was in the morning before he stood right behind you with his swords at your neck and his breath on your neck and his chest against your back and the early dawn all around you, filling up the wide spaces of the world with questions and more questions. Here is a good example of a question: Zuko trapped you once before with his swords, so why didn't you feel the same strange fire then that you did today? Is it because your bond of trust has deepened? He trusted you enough to not block your ice attack in the morning with any actual defenses. He trusted you enough to join him as leader of the team in the desert. He trusts you right now, sitting around this camp, when he asks for your opinion on whether you think this _Serpent's Pass _thing is a safe road to take. You stare at him and try to understand what he's asking because you're thinking about something else entirely.

What is Zuko like, alone?

But this, of course, is the one thing you can't know. You can know Zuko in the dark and Zuko in the light, Zuko as your enemy and Zuko as your friend, but you can't get inside his mind when he's by himself with nothing but his own thoughts. You can only guess. You can only wonder.

You can only guess and wonder why, when the firebender says your name to encourage you to answer his question about the _Serpent's Pass_, a lone ember stirs deep inside your chest. A small flame at the sound of _Katara _passing across his lips, a fire that shouldn't be there because you already know you actually really like Aang.

This is how it feels to be me, right now.


	14. Some Say in Ice: 3

_A/N: **[Please read this bold part: I'm taking some artistic license and saying it takes three days of travel by foot to get from the canyon to the bay because there was a scene/time skip in the show. Also, if anyone is interested in being a Beta, feel free to message me!] **Keeping it short and simple this time: this past LoK episode was amazing, the plot for this story is about to thicken (and no more spoilers from me in the A/N section), and remember that nothing I write is random—I mostly don't do one-off characters. _

_Edit: A special thank-you goes to JackieStarSister and Kimberly T for pointing out some mistakes that have now been corrected. Good eyes! :D_

We spend the next few hours following the map towards the Serpent's Pass, which looks another good few days worth of walking away. Zuko leads the group, map in hand, with Sokka and Toph tagging along close behind. My brother and the earthbender chat and occasionally rope Zuko into the conversation. I'd pay them more mind, but there's Aang to keep me occupied. Not because he's talking but the opposite: he's drifting further and further back, looking up at the sky and sun. Focusing on the wide and cloudless day like his mind is in some distant place.

"Hey, you okay?" I say, falling into step beside him.

He shrugs but keeps quiet. We plod on down the dirt road we're following, a path the sun has baked to perfection. Yellowed patches of grass march up and down the edges. Everything around here, even us, could all do with a drizzle of cooling water. A touch of the healing rain can do wonders for tired travelers.

Around noon we cross a bridge with a river running beneath. Strange how alive this one place could be, even bright flowers blooming on its banks when a few minutes of walking in either direction brings you back to dead grass and bare dirt. As we come to the high curve of the bridge, I stop and lean on the railing. Aang pauses beside me, looking down into the current. I want to climb down to the river bed and practice waterbending together with him like we used to, back before everything got so complicated with the eclipse and the Fire Lord and his son joining the fight against his father. Zuko looks back to check if the rest of the team is keeping up, a motion I notice. Maybe he keeps his eyes longer on me than on the others, or maybe I'm just making things up now. There's a lot more tangled up in my mind than I want to have in there. Like the idea of maybe liking two people at once. And how to get rid of this unwelcome feeling for a person who's barely even my friend.

"Aang." His name comes out of my mouth without me realizing I'm saying it. I think my brain knew I needed a distraction.

He goes down the bridge, and I follow him along the dirt path again. "Yeah?" he says.

"Thought share?"

He blinks. "Huh?"

"When Sokka and I used to get mad at each other as little kids—you know, I threw a snowball at his head, he ate the last of the sea prune stew—our mother sat us down and made us do a 'thought share.' That's when we each had sixty seconds to spill out every single thing that came into our heads during our allowed time. Once we had all our feelings out, we didn't feel as bad."

"Um . . . I guess."

"Here, let me start." I look around for something to give me inspiration. "That tree over there looks like it needs some water, and actually everything around here looks like it could use some water, and you know what I want right now? I want to go practice waterbending with you in that river we just passed. But you know why we can't? Zuko's keeping up the pace and he won't stop for us. He's not the kind of person who'd make room for anyone, ever, in his entire life. It kind of makes me wonder how he managed to get along with his uncle at all. And that's something else: when we find Iroh, he's teaching me how to make his amazing tea. Though I like your tea too, Aang—and it's your turn."

He's barely hiding a smile now. "Well, okay. Hmm . . . today's sky has a really good shade of blue. It reminds me of the ocean and your eyes. Um . . ."

"You can't stop," I tell him. "That's the only rule. Just keep going, you were doing great."

He twiddles his thumbs. "But what if I say something I don't even realize I'm about to say?"

"That's the fun part. You find out a lot about yourself, too."

He takes a calming breath. "Okay. So . . . the sky. It's that pretty blue color of the ocean and your eyes. I wish I could go up there and collect some of that water and bring it down here for the grass. Then I want to take off my shoes and wiggle my toes into the dirt. But I want you to do it with me. Everything's more fun when you're with me. Um . . ." He runs his hand over his arrow, takes another breath, and goes on with: "You're an amazing person to be around, Katara, and I don't know what I'd do if I hadn't met you. You help me focus on what's important. You help me stay hopeful. You've helped me sort through the confusion I've been feeling for a while, and I think I'm starting to see things really clearly now. Like how I feel about learning earthbending even though it's my opposite . . . and how I feel about you. I, uh . . ." He grips his glider staff tightly. "I think that's sixty seconds."

It's the way of the world that it'll go on spinning no matter what's happening in it, whether it's hope or heartbreak or the closest thing to a confession I've heard come from Aang about that thing we still need to discuss: what happened between us in the cave. I link and unlink my fingers. I look ahead at Zuko and catch myself doing it. Thinking about Zuko when I'm back here talking to Aang. Whatever this feeling is, it needs to stop. Now.

I glance back at the airbender, who's looking at me hopefully. "Want me to do another thought-share?"

He grins. "That'd be—"

"You know what stinks? Walking," Sokka suddenly loudly complains from the front, cutting Aang off. "That's all we've been doing for days and days! We need another ride."

"Let's talk tonight," I tell Aang quickly. It's not tough to recognize that we're all about to dissolve into noisy banter.

"Maybe Twinkletoes can drop us all on an air scooter and fly us to the bay," Toph helpfully suggests.

My brother grabs her by the shoulders. "Or maybe we can ride on a wave of rock you keep pushing forward!"

"Or we can borrow some ostrich horses," Zuko says.

"Wow. Now _that's_ a great idea!" my brother says. "Are a bunch of them just going to drop down out of the sky for our convenience?"

Toph points. "He means those."

Far to the right of the road, a fence rings off a wide corner of a grassy field kept green by irrigation—the outer limits of some farm. Two ostrich horses graze on the edge of the enclosure while another stands watch close by. Zuko wanders off the road and the rest of us follow. The self-appointed guard walks over to the fence and leans its neck over, sniffing as we approach. I stare at its eyes, a misty blue.

"That's weird," I say.

"It's blind," Zuko explains. "See those over there? They have normal ostrich eye colors."

"Hey, it's not scared," Aang says, petting the blind one's beak.

"That one can be Toph's since they've got so much in common," Sokka teases, earning him a punch square in the stomach. The earthbender in question then climbs over the wooden fence and drops down on the other side.

"I call riding with Sparky," she says. "He's the only one who looks like he can handle one of these things."

"Katara, would you like to ride with me?" Aang asks shyly.

My brother pokes out a pouty lip. "Aww, man. Odd man out."

When the rest of us follow Toph over the fence, the other two grazing ostrich horses look up. Zuko approaches the one of them with slow steps. It turns its brown eyes on him and backs away until the firebender holds up an open palm. The ostrich horse snorts but leans its head down to smell the hand. It lets Zuko rub its neck.

"You're really good with animals," I tell him, probably the reason Momo liked Zuko's lap and scratches behind the ears.

"My uncle taught me, and these are tamed. They trust people."

"No surprise there. He seems to have taught you everything."

Zuko helps Toph onto the ostrich horse, then climbs up himself in the front. "I haven't ridden bareback very often, but hold on tight and we'll be okay," he assures the earthbender, who wraps her arms tightly around his waist.

"We better be," she tells him, not trying too hard to hide the anxiety in her voice.

He looks at me again. "Not everything. I'm starting to pick up on some new lessons."

The prickle of fire comes into my chest again—but then I hear: "Katara, are you ready?" Aang's already waiting for me on his chosen ostrich horse, the one with blue eyes.

"Do you think it's safe to take this one?" I ask, not sure if a blind animal makes for a good travel companion.

"Don't worry. We'll be okay."

I grab Aang's hand to climb up behind him. "Sokka, hurry up!" I call.

My brother's still circling around his ostrich horse, trying to get it to let him on. The animal shies away, stamping its legs and shaking its large head. Sokka makes a grab for its neck and the ostrich horse flaps its wings, knocking my brother into the dirt.

"Looks like you picked the right one," Toph tells him. "You two have so much in common: featherbrains.

Sokka snorts. "Just watch me tame this beast!"

I know what he's about to do a second before he takes off running, but I've only just opened my mouth to tell him to not be stupid when my brother jumps onto the ostrich horse. He makes a wild grab for its neck and accidentally rips out a few feathers. His legs pin tightly to the animal's side. Probably terrified, certainly caught off guard, it rears and takes off. My brother holds on, shrieking for his life. Our blind ostrich horse quickly runs in pursuit, ignoring my screams and Aang's. The sound of pounding feet from behind lets me know Zuko and Toph are following, but the blind one is the fastest of the three. Like the earthbender, it seems to have found its own way to see—maybe by listening for the panicked one's stamping or feeling vibrations from the earth. And it's probably been on this farm long enough to make a mental map of its surrounding, which helps it navigate.

We've almost caught up to Sokka when we hear a different shout and the thunder of more ostrich horse feet. A rider is speeding towards us, a young woman of about Zuko's age with her hair drawn up into a tight bun. From a distance I see her hand reach into one of a pair of saddlebags and pull out some ropes with weights attached. She whistles loudly, some kind of signal that makes all of the ostrich horses pull up short. The weights and rope come flying at us, one knocking my brother clear off his animal and into a tangled pile on the ground. Zuko kicks away the one coming for him and Toph, while Aang redirects ours with a gust of air.

"Off my land and away from my ostrich horses!" she yells, grabbing two more weights and ropes out of the bags.

"Wait, please!" Zuko says, guiding his animal towards her. "We didn't realize these belonged to someone," he lies.

"Oh, sure. Actually you're just pissed off that I caught you before you could steal them. They cost big money, you know. I should tell some of those Fire Nation soldiers who like to steal things off my farm that they've got competition. I'm sure they'd have no problem dealing with some thieves."

"Hey!" Sokka yells. "Does anyone want to help get these ropes off me? Anyone?"

Zuko ignores him. "We're just travelers who need to reach the Serpent's Pass as fast as possible," he tells the girl. "We'll be glad to pay for these three animals."

I gawk. Unless he's got some secret stash of money that the rest of us haven't seen yet, we're almost dead broke. Before I can ask what exactly he plans to pay with, the girl cuts me off with a gasp.

"The _what_?" she says. "You guys really aren't from around here, are you?"

"_Hello!_" my brother shrieks.

"Is there a problem?" Aang asks, leading our mount over, too. The girl looks at him carefully, then at me, then back at him.

"Yeah, the Serpent's Pass is a deadly road. Then again, feel free to go that way. It'll be a faster punishment than having to call over those Fire Nation guys." But her eyes have softened, her mouth almost in a smile. "Hey, wait . . . you look familiar." She points at Aang. "That thing you did with the air—you're not the Avatar, are you?"

"Uh . . ."

"He is," Zuko says, cutting Aang off. "And we're his friends."

"Wow! From all the wanted posters I thought you'd be older and tougher, but you're just a little squirt," she says. "Aang, right?"

"Yep," the airbender says, nodding.

"Jia," she says, half-bowing and tucking the ropes and weights back into the saddlebags. She climbs down off her ostrich horse and kneels by Sokka, cutting his binds with a knife. "I'm about to head back to the farm for lunch. You guys hungry?"

"Starving," my brother says, flashing her a grin.

"That was a quick change of heart," I whisper to Aang.

He shrugs. "People are just more willing to help the Avatar, I guess."

But as Jia climbs back into her saddle, I can't help but notice she's glancing more at Zuko than the airbender. She helps Sokka up onto the back of her own ostrich horse. "This might be safer," she tells him. "You really suck with animals, don't you?"

"Hey!" he says, but she laughs and whistles for the other three animals to follow.

We run at a quick pace, leaping past small herds of grazing ostrich horses. Jia leads us with Zuko close behind. "Do you breed them here?" he asks, nodding at one of the clusters of animals.

"Yep," she says. "Me and my parents."

The gesture is clear. If they have tons of ostrich horses, maybe they won't be too reluctant to part with a few for the Avatar's sake.

The farm is a low, sprawling structure sets out on flat land. A few hybrid pigs cluster around the front yard. We climb off our mounts and Jia waves to a farmhand sitting out on the porch. She whispers something to him before he leads the ostrich horses away. Aang pets a wooly-pig before we climb up the porch steps. A pigster perched on the porch swing cocks its head at us.

"Mom, Dad—guests!" she calls as she leads us into the house. "You guys want baths before lunch?" she asks, looking our dusty clothes up and down.

Toph rolls her eyes. "I'm fine."

"I'm not," I say. "I'd _love_ to get in some water."

"Here, come with me. You got a name?"

"Katara." We shake hands.

She takes me to a small room with a water-filled tub and hands me a towel. "I was going to use this after lunch, but I'll refill it in the evening. It should still be a little warm. Hey—mind if I ask something personal?"

"Uh . . . sure. Go ahead," I say, stripping down to my wrappings in the meantime.

"So, that older boy. The one in Earth Kingdom clothes. You're not his girlfriend, are you?"

I drop my shirt onto the pile of clothes already by the tub. "What? No. No way."

"Oh, okay. That's cool. See you at lunch, and call if you need anything!"

Jia closes the door as she leaves, humming softly. I climb into the water and sink down so the water's almost tickling my nose. I try to focus on the currents I make with my fingers, little swirls in the pool. At least here in my own element, I should feel comforted—but I'm not. I shouldn't let her words bother me, but they hum under my skin like her little tune. Leaning back on my elbows, I slide down until the water seals over my whole face. I want it to wash away this strange grief that touches me deep inside. A sadness I can't explain.

But when I finish my bath, I feel cleaner but not better. And even _cleaner _is questionable on the grounds that somewhere buried in all that sadness is a dark guilt, a whispering voice that tells me Zuko's my friend and that's it. The whisper that reminds me I like Aang. I tell myself this, over and over: _You like Aang._

Waterbending myself dry, I dress and find my way to the kitchen by following a warm scent trail. An older woman who looks very much like Jia, only heavier and a little more worn, is setting out large bowls filled with food. My friends have already settled around the round dinner table, which is full except for three empty chairs.

"Woah! Way too much, Mom," Jia teases the woman, who notices me and waves me into an empty chair next to Aang.

Sokka's eyes leap between dishes. "Do you think we could have some for the road, too?"

"No one's ever left my house hungry," the woman answers, laughing.

"Well, one person tried," Jia says. "But Mom chased him down and brought him back."

"To feed him or fry him?" my brother jokes.

Jia laughs as the woman takes a seat beside me so all the chairs but one are filled. Zuko, who is wedged between Aang and Jia, passes Toph a bowl where she's sitting on Sokka's other side. She spoons out some rice and shoves the bowl at my brother. Momo nibbles some food directly off Aang's plate. Our hosts observe this with a faint wave of nausea passing across their faces.

"Dad's out in the fields," Jia says, explaining the remaining empty chair. "I'll bag him a lunch and take it over after we eat. You guys want to come along? We could use the help harvesting apples."

At the mention of apples, Aang sighs quietly. Or maybe it's just a coincidental overlap.

"We'd love to!" Sokka says, volunteering the whole group with a grin. I think he's already got a new crush.

Toph picks at her food. "Why not," she says, almost sadly.

I scoop large helpings out of a few different bowls. It's not all familiar, but the smells tell me I won't be disappointed. Halfway through the meal, Jia undoes the bun holding up her hair. It pours down her shoulders in dark, generous waves. She glances at Zuko as she does this, although the firebender keeps his eyes on his plate.

"So are any of you guys benders?" she asks.

"Earthbender," Toph immediately volunteers with a pleased grin.

I nod. "Waterbender."

"Avatar," Aang says meekly.

"Boomerang bender," my brother says, whipping out his weapon of choice. "Impressive, ain't it?"

Zuko takes another bite and chews thoughtfully. "Non-bender," he says at last. "I fight with dual dao swords."

"Wow," she says, trying to catch his eyes. "Swords, huh? That's pretty neat. Think you could show me some sword moves later?"

At those words, he looks up and catches me watching them intently. I look hard into my food, my breathing quickened. "Swords aren't something to play around with," he says, the answer clear in his tone.

Jia nudges him with her elbow. "Aww, come on. You guys got a free lunch off us . . . and if you impress me you'll get free dinner, too."

Zuko's eyes close, his jaw set firm. My stomach drops because I already know what he's going to say, this firebender who promised to help us however he could. He would probably do almost anything to fulfill that promise.

"Okay," he says, almost sadly.

"Sweetness," Jia says.

"That's _my_ word," Toph growls.

She laughs rather unkindly. "You can't claim a word."

"Watch me."

"Can someone pass me the rice bowl?" Aang says loudly even though he's closest to it. He glances between the two girls as he says this, probably trying to quell the almost-argument.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Jia says. "Why don't you four"—she points at me, Sokka, Aang, and Toph—"go help my dad in the apple grove. Meanwhile, you can impress me with your sword skills."

Zuko stands up. "I'm going with my friends."

Her eyes flash. "Please?"

"He'll be glad to stay," Sokka says, leaning close to Jia. "I will, too, if you want to see my boomerang in action."

She shoots my brother a withering glare. "Besides," she whispers in Zuko's ear, though loud enough for me to hear. "Don't you need three ostrich horses?"

Zuko bristles, but his shoulders slump. I want to defend him and tell this Jia girl to back off, but before I can say anything he nods. "Okay," he agrees again. "I'll see you guys at dinner."

The remaining four of us are herded outside like moo-sows. Jia's mother gives us directions and tells us to ride two of the ostrich horses that brought us here out to the orchards. "This one's my personal favorite even though he's not very useful," she tells me, patting the blind one's neck. "We can't even use him to sire a new line since the offspring might be blind, too."

"What's his name?" I ask.

"Kan," she says, handing me a wrapped lunch bag for her husband. "Shame he can't see. He's smarter than three of these others put together."

Aang helps me onto Kan's back. Sokka and Toph climb up on the other. My brother takes the front spot and she wraps her arms around his waist. Tighter even than around Zuko's waist earlier, I notice.

The ostrich horses seem to know the road to the orchards by memory. Ladders leading up into trees are filled with workers picking fruit. An older man who introduces himself as Lee takes the bag, thanking us for coming out to help. We spend the next hour picking fruits and dropping them into baskets, though my mind's only halfway on the job. The other half of me is back on the farm wondering if Zuko's okay. If maybe that Jia girl secretly guessed he might have been a firebender by the scar on his face, even though that was a stupid theory. Plenty of regular Earth Kingdom civilians have been burned by those benders. But still I hold on to that theory because that's easier than admitting to the real reason I'm worried. The reason that shouldn't concern me in the slightest at all.

"Hey," Sokka calls from an adjacent ladder. "You don't happen to have any water, do you?"

"Yeah, hold on." I reach for my water skin, but my fingers meet fabric. "Oh, I must have left it back in the farmhouse after my bath. There's probably some water out here—but I have to go back and grab my water skin."

As I climb down the ladder, Toph stands up from her place at the base of a tree. "I'm coming with you," she says, probably tired of being useless. She offered to earthbend-shake the trees so they drop all their apples, but apparently bruised fruit sells poorly on the market. Kan walks over to meet us and pushes his beak into my hand. I feed him an apple I'd torn off on my way down.

"Can you find your way back to the farmhouse?" I ask him after Toph and I are safely situated on his back.

He leaps into a sprint. Toph holds on tightly but stays quiet. "Feeling okay?" I ask her.

"I'm fine." Her tone lets me know the conversation is over even though she's clearly worked up about something.

"You don't have to tell me. I'm just offering you a chance to talk."

My fingers gloss over Kan's feathers, trying to find a steady hold. We really need tack and a saddle once we get back to the farm.

"Your brother's a jerk," she says.

"What'd he do?"

"Did you see him hitting on that girl? You can't just do that to strangers."

"My brother flirts more than he should," I admit. "That doesn't mean he's serious."

Toph thinks about this in silence. "Jerk," she says, then grips my waist a little more tightly.

The farmhouse is coming up in the distance. Kan slows to a jog, then suddenly stops even though we're a good way away. He shakes his head and takes a step back. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Shh," Toph says. "I can hear someone coming."

There's a dense herd of ostrich horses grazing nearby. I jump down, help Toph off, and guide Kan by the beak into the crowd. The other animals ignore us.

"It's Zuko and Jia," she says, laying her hand on the ground. "They're coming this way."

I hear their voices before I see them. "I will _not_," the firebender growls angrily. Leaning down, I can just make out their distant feet out through the layer of ostrich horse legs. Toph gets down beside me so we're both listening and watching.

"But you need those three ostrich horses," she says, her voice a low purr.

"What else can I give you?"

"Just that. I have everything else I need. We breed the best ostrich horses and the Earth King himself is one of our customers, making my father one of the richest men in the Earth Kingdom. He only still works because he was raised to like the labor."

There's a pause as Zuko seems to consider this. "He just turned away from her, and his heart rate's really up," Toph tells me. I wish I could see more than just their feet.

"Then let me just pay you for them."

Jia's cold laugh falls across the field. "Pay me? I have all the money I could ever ask for. That's the _only _way you're getting those animals."

"Fine, then we don't need them," Zuko says. "We'll walk the rest of the way."

Someone sighs, and I'm guessing it's Jia. "I'll give you a sweeter deal," she says. "Instead of killing yourselves on the Serpent's Pass, why don't you go to Full Moon Bay? There's a new ship about to launch on its maiden voyage tomorrow. My friends and I were going to take a trip to Ba-Sing-Se, but I'll give you five tickets for free plus the three ostrich horses. You won't even need passports." A pause, then: "Of course, unless you have tickets and passports. Then please feel free to go—though you're sure you won't stay for dinner?"

"I have a girlfriend."

"She won't know . . . and it's for your friends."

"They're looking at each other," Toph tells me, feeling with her seismic sense.

I suddenly feel it. I feel it way deep down and I know, and know for sure, that he's about to make some stupid sacrifice for the team that he'll regret. I hear him say _fine_ even as I stand. It fills up my ears, it fills up my lungs, it fills me up until I'm brimming with fear as I push through the ostrich horses. I move one aside by its neck and remain clinging to it.

They are standing there together in the bright daylight, pressed together, her arms snagged around his neck. She brushes her lips against his. He squeezes his eyes shut, but he doesn't resist. Then she lunges and turns it into a real and deep kiss.

And from my place among the ostrich horses, I hate my legs for turning to water while I tell myself it doesn't matter, it doesn't, it doesn't—and I hate myself because no matter how many times I say that, no matter how many times I say Zuko's life doesn't matter at all to me in that sphere . . . for some reason I know it does, it does, _it does._

_A/N: Longest chapter yet, woo! Love it? Hate it? Please hit the "review" button below and tell me (even if you haven't had a chance to leave comments yet but have been following the story)! :D I want to know how I can make it better and what I'm doing well and should keep doing. _


	15. Some Say in Ice: 4

_A/N: A super enormous thank-you goes to the amazing and epic JackieStarSister for working with me on making this chapter awesome in advance of this update. I bow to her wise ways in the characters of Avatar—this section couldn't be possible without her advice and suggestions, which were incredibly insightful and helpful. On a side-note, I'll be honest: it's fairly Toph (tough? 'cause it's punny?) working on medical school stuff and this story at the same time . . . but for my faithful readers and our favorite (future) couple, I boldly continue forth! So on we go, and take note: here you'll finally see some emerging hints of the overall theme for this section ("Some Say [the World Will End] in Ice")._

_ Edit: A special thank-you also goes to Kimberly T for correctly noting that Katara could by no means expertly guide a blind ostrich horse. This chapter has been edited accordingly to address this issue. _

Probably there will only be two or three moments in your entire life when you'll hear a dark voice whispering out of the heart of everything. It will slowly drag you down into the blackest grief imaginable, covering up your mouth and nose and eyes with the secret truth at its center. I have heard the voice only a few times before, like the moment I lost my mother. I didn't think I would hear it now, watching Zuko and Jia kiss under the burning sun, but the whisper comes clearly. _So this is what you really are, Katara of the Water Tribe. A girl who pretends to want to help people but who would cut her affection two ways. Would you want Aang to divide his love between two people? What would it do to him if he found out about this? _

The hurt, angry truth in those words makes me gasp—and makes Jia turn her eyes on mine as she breaks the kiss.

"Oh, Katara," she says calmly as if completely not surprised to see me. "Good thing you're here. If you're going back to the house, ask my mom to help you saddle up three ostrich horses. Tell her your little not-boyfriend here just bought them off me."

Zuko squints as if trying to figure out if I'm really holding onto an ostrich horse's neck five feet away or it's just his brain playing tricks in the afternoon heat. Or maybe he's not even seeing me. Maybe he's trying to see his uncle and imagine what Iroh would think of how his nephew had just sold himself for a faster ride and some cruise tickets. But then suddenly he steps back, his face colored over with a fierce blush. His eyes darken as they do when he's angry or upset, and he looks off across the field—probably just trying to look anywhere but at Toph and me.

The earthbender quietly steps beside me, looking thoughtful. For once she doesn't say anything. As if there's anything to say.

I nod because I don't trust myself to speak to Jia. I know myself well enough to understand that I'm sometimes quick to anger, and right now we might as well get the reward for Zuko's decision. No use in making Jia mad by snapping at her since what's done is done. "Come on," I tell Toph, though we don't take Kan. Wrapped in uncomfortable silence, the two of us walk towards the distant farmhouse. Neither Zuko nor Jia follow us, nor do I turn back to look at them. Honestly, I don't feel so terribly bad that Zuko's probably back there burning in his own shame. At least, I tell myself so. I tell myself he deserves the embarrassment because he shouldn't have agreed to any kind of sacrifice like that for the team. Especially not one that involves kissing some girl he doesn't like . . . because he _doesn't_ like her. How could he if they just met?

"You like him, don't you?" Toph says after we're out of earshot.

Lying to her is the same as telling the truth since she'll know either way. I try for something neutral. "Did my heartbeat tell you that? Because it lied; I don't even know myself."

"But you care about him."

"Toph. Stop."

"You freaked out when you saw them making out," she insists. "Yeah, I could go back and punch her in the gut for making Sparky go through with that. But you? Your whole body tensed up like she was about to attack you."

"Sure, I'm upset. Zuko had to kiss some girl because you and my brother said you were too tired of walking!"

"Oh, is this my fault now?" she snaps.

"No, it's nobody's fault. I just . . . let's just get to the farmhouse."

Something sharp nudges me in the back. Kan pokes his head over my shoulder and picks at a hair loopy with his beak. "Hey, you want to come with us?" I ask, rubbing his neck for some small comfort. "Do you like me because we both have blue on us?" I coo.

"Obviously the blind ostrich horse really likes the color of your clothes," Toph notes.

"Apparently we're all coming with you," Jia's voice calls. She rides past us on an ostrich horse, smiling smugly. Another one carrying Zuko follows, though he orders his to a halt when he rides alongside Toph and me.

"Find Aang and Sokka," he says without looking at us. The fire hasn't fully left his cheeks. "Tell them we're leaving soon. I'm going back to the farm for a few minutes. I'll come find you in the orchards."

"You go find them. I'll go back with Jia and get the ostrich horses and tickets," I tell him. My voice is a notch colder than I mean. "I need to get my water skin from the bathing room anyway. Unless you haven't had enough of her company."

His eyes finally turn on me, wide and filled with a hurt disbelief.

"What?" I snap. "You didn't enjoy your little make-out session?"

A shadow falls across Zuko's whole face. His mouth becomes a thin, angry line. "I'll get your water skin," he says, the ice in his voice cold enough to match mine.

"I already said I'm going. I'll get it myself—hey, wait!"

But he's already dug his knees into his ostrich horse, sending it into a run after Jia. Kan nips at my hair loopy again and nuzzles my cheek. I roughly stroke his head, wondering how it is that animals are so much more in-tune with distress than people.

"We could follow them," Toph suggests.

I bury my face in Kan's neck. His feathers are warm against my nose, my eyelids, my forehead. I blink back the hot water building up behind my eyes, an emotional response I refuse to entertain.

"No, let's get Aang and Sokka," I say, climbing up. "If they want to spend some more time together, let them."

By the time we get back to the orchards, the afternoon is starting to cool towards evening. We find our friends sitting by a basket of apples, each eating through one apiece—including one for Momo, whose fur is wet with a little juice.

"There you guys are!" my brother calls when he spots us. "We were starting to wonder if you were going to be served for dinner."

Toph jumps off the ostrich horse as soon as she hears Sokka's voice and I slow Kan down. "I _hate_ riding," she groans, staggering over to grab an apple for herself.

"Except with Zuko," my brother teases.

"Even then. I think I'm taking my next ride with you."

Aang stands up when I don't make a move to get down from my mount. "Is everything okay?" he asks, coming over.

I keep my eyes on Kan's neck feathers and gloss my fingers over them. "Zuko's coming to pick us up in a few minutes. Then we're leaving."

"What?" Sokka complains. "What about dinner?"

"We're leaving when Zuko gets here," I say, trying to keep my voice even. Trying not to think about the dark whisper that breathed into my ear again when I saw Aang and the worry filling his eyes. The worry for me, the girl he likes and who likes him back.

The Avatar airbends onto Kan's back behind me. He doesn't ask to switch places. He doesn't ask if I'm okay again. He just wraps his arms around my waist and rests his cheek against the curve of my spine, waiting for me to talk when I'm ready.

Sokka and Toph make some small talk for the next ten minutes, which I mostly ignore. Instead I focus on blocking out some of rising anger inside me, an anger half directed at Zuko for what he did and half at myself for wanting to be angry with Zuko at all. One part of me says, _He had no right to sacrifice himself like that for the team, and you should have stopped him. _But the other bit is wiser: _You're only mad because of the glowing ember heating up your heart. _

When Zuko rides into the orchard with three ostrich horses in full tack and with loaded saddlebags of supplies, including his own mount, I don't look at him. Nor do I climb off Kan and take one of the other animals. Deep, calming breaths force my face to stay neutral and reveal nothing of the rage I try to stuff deep inside my heart.

"Katara, that one's not ours," he says. "You need to get off."

"I'm taking _this _one. We've got a lot in common."

"Blue eyes?" he guesses.

My response is a chilled silence. What I was actually thinking was: Because we're both blind. Him, blind to seeing the physical world. Me, blind to seeing myself for what I had almost become.

The kind of girl I will _never_ let myself become.

Zuko rides up beside me and Aang. "At least let me put a saddle on him. And some reins," he says gently, probably trying to mend an inevitable argument before it breaks out. He holds out my water skin. "Here."

"I'm _fine_," I say, grabbing it. "And I'm keeping Kan."

"Let her do what she wants," Toph tells Zuko, much to my surprise. Then again, she's probably the one who most clearly understand why I can't talk to him yet. Not until I get myself fully back in control.

Sokka and Toph climb onto one of the two available animals. Zuko leaves the last one in the orchard and our three ostrich horses break into a run down the way we originally came until we reach the fence. We look for a gate and open it so the three animals can reach the dirt road beyond.

"Wait, wait!" Sokka says suddenly, riding up beside me. "Okay, so I get how this guy has memorized the ranch and that's how he takes care of himself out here. How exactly are you going to guide him out on new road.

"I'll be fine," I snap, bitter that he won't just trust me on this. I tell myself I feel a connection to Kan, two blinded blue-eyed creatures who can find comfort in each other.

"You've never been on an ostrich horse. We'll crawl at a snail's pace! Are you _sure _we can't get another one? There are plenty out here," he says, sweeping his arm at a grazing herd close by.

But I know why I want to keep Kan, aside from our seeming connection. He seems like the favorite around the farm—and if Jia's mother would miss him, so too would Jia herself. Right now, that's a perk in my book.

As we run through the gate, I imagine the journey will go something like this: Aang and I will ride in the lead, raising dust clouds behind us. Kan will respond to the slightest shift of my weight, the gentlest tug on his neck feathers. It will be the smallest taste of how Aang feels with Appa, from the outside only a rider and his pet but in fact two friends bonded by a deep mutual trust and understanding. At a high speed, blind Kan will trust me in absolute terms to guide him. And I will trust him to listen. I'll probably wish I could trust myself in the same way he trusts me, though my reaction to that kiss tells me a different story. I need to be careful, controlling of a fire I shouldn't have to begin with.

Things go according to plan for all of three minutes.

Suddenly a pothole comes up ahead, one Kan's headed for at a breakneck pace. I try to steer him to the side with a gentle squeeze of one knee, but he ignores me. "Pothole!" I call out, but I might as well have babbled gibberish to a rock. "Woah, woah!" I scream, tearing at his neck feathers. At this he shakes his head and pulls short, bucking me and Aang clear off. The airbender eases us to the ground on a cushion of air, both of us breathing hard.

"What happened?" Zuko yells, reigning in his animal to stop beside us.

I dust myself off. "Nothing," I grumble. Look at that firebender, thinking he's the fancy man for knowing his way around ostrich horses. Though I'm pretty bitter at Kan, too, for not listening better. I'm _great _with animals. That one time Sokka and I were sick, I sent Momo out for water just fine. A few more forages and he would've figured it out.

Aang taps me on the shoulder. "I could airbend rocks and stuff out of the way if you let me get in the front," he offers.

I throw up my hands. "Fine," I say. "And quit staring," I snap at Zuko, who gives me his hurt eyes again. "We're just _fine._"

We ride until nightfall in silence, though more slowly now, and I would have kept us running had Aang not noticed something. "I think your brother's about to fall asleep," he whispers. Sokka has slumped against his ostrich horse's neck, eyes still open but glazed over with drowsiness. Behind him, Toph rubs her eyes and yawns.

"Kan, we're stopping," Aang tells our mount, patting his neck. He seems to understand and slows to a jog, then steps off the dirt road into the dusty grasses. We go on a few minutes until the road is out of sight so night travelers don't spot us. Over a dinner of fruit and dried meat around a glowing fire, Zuko and Sokka check the map and announce that we should be at our new destination, Full Moon Bay, by late morning tomorrow.

The firebender ignores me. He won't even look at me, which is fine because I ignore him right back.

"Katara?" Aang asks halfway through an apple bite.

"Yeah?"

What he says: "Will you take a walk with me?"

What he means: Do you want to have that talk you told me we'd have tonight?

I get up. "We'll come back soon," I say, leaving the rest of my apple for Momo to finish off. It'll be good to get my mind off the kiss that's haunted me all day.

We spot a lonely cluster of trees and head towards them. The high moon's so full of light that it casts a silver curtain over everything, the ground and the trees and Aang and me. We pass into the thicket and I look up through a web of branches to feel the night fall over me. Then I hold up my hand and almost lose the boundary between my silvered skin and the dark, as if the night is my own skin. As if the night is Aang's skin, too, as he steps in front of me. The two of us stand there wrapped in the same darkness and I feel like I should feel: in the warmest place in the world now that we're alone together. But the warm moment passes too quickly.

"Thought share?" he asks.

His words are like ice-water splashed across my face. I suddenly feel as if something dangerous has just slipped between us, and I know exactly what that thing is: my thoughts immediately jumped to Zuko and Jia and the kiss between them, that and the dark whispering spirit with its secret truth.

"I don't know."

"Please?" he begs.

"Well . . . I guess I just can't believe what Zuko did today. He . . . actually, let's just talk. I'm not ready for a thought share."

"Can we sit down?" he asks, leading me by the hand to one of the trees. But instead of sitting, I lean against the tree trunk and press my fingers to the rough bark. I find some comfort in knowing that this tree is so much older than I am, so much older already than I'll ever be. It might even be almost as wise as Iroh, if only trees could talk.

"I'm worried about Zuko," I tell the tree. Then I look at Aang, who doesn't let go of my hand as he waits for me to continue. "He'd do anything for his uncle. I think now that he's helping us, he'd do anything for the team too."

"That just means we can trust him to help us," he says with his usual optimism.

"But what if he's stupid about trying to help?"

Aang rubs the back of his neck. "Something happened today, didn't it? You don't have to tell me, but . . ." His eyes beg for me to speak.

I sigh. If I can't find comfort in Aang, I can't find it in anyone. "That girl made him kiss her in exchange for those ostrich horses and tickets to a ship that I think will get us to Ba-Sing-Se."

It grows so quiet. He takes a step toward me and nods encouragingly. There are few things beautiful beyond my abilities to express them, but this one of them: Aang's warm gray eyes gazing into mine.

"That's it," I say.

"Katara," he says gently. "Maybe you're blowing this a little out of proportion. He just kissed her, right? That's no big deal."

"You know what?" I snap. "Kisses _are _a big deal. I think so."

His face flushes. "I didn't mean _all _kisses are no big deal. Just the one you described." He takes both of my hands in his and gently presses the bundle to his chest. "Some kisses are a _really _big deal."

I feel the warmth in my face as I begin to understand what he's getting at. "Like . . ."

"Yeah. Like that," he says, knowing the exact place my mind's jumped to this time. As he says this he moves forward, his soft eyes still meeting mine with the same question as before, and for a moment I feel like I should just close my eyes and lose myself in the close darkness between us. But the dark whisper rises inside me and I pull back. I have to confront my own feelings before I can confront Aang about this issue of _us_.

"I'm kind of tired tonight," I tell him, sad to see his shoulders slump. But he nods, understanding.

"Okay," he says. "But . . . well, we can talk about that when you're ready, too."

We head back to the campsite where the fire is still illuminating the dark. Its light casts across the place where Toph is using Sokka as a pillow. Zuko is lying with his back to the flames, his face hidden by the dark.

"Would you . . . uh . . . would you like to sleep next to me since it's a little cold and we don't have blankets?" Aang asks, hoping I'll let us be warm together.

"In a minute. Let me grab one more apple."

He goes off to find a soft place to rest while I reach for the fruit bag by the fire. The apple excuse is an open lie: I'm nauseous, not hungry. Instead I use the moment alone to stare at the back of Zuko's head and try to understand what the kiss must have been like for him and how he justified it to himself.

But maybe that's not what I should be thinking. Maybe I should ask myself how I can justify being angry at a person I honestly barely even know over a kiss that's none of my business. Besides, he told Jia he has a girlfriend—probably someone in the Fire Nation I don't even know yet. The fact that this even matters to me and that I keep thinking about it lets me know something more important.

"I don't know why, but I think I do like you," I whisper into the dark, and saying those words out loud breaks my heart open. It's just a little crack, but still enough to let the cold evening air seep inside and settle inside my chest. I need that chill to stay right where it is and help my heart freeze over so I don't feel for the firebender what I do now in some small, flickering way for a reason I don't understand. For Zuko's own sake . . . and for Aang's, who is waiting for me to come sleep beside him so we can both stay warm together. Because I'm the one who always helps people, the one will give anything to keep others and her friends safe and happy.

To do that, I have to put out this barely kindled flame.

So even though no one but maybe Toph knows about my struggle, what I need to do right now is close my eyes and let this little spark go. Let go of the ember in my heart that warmed me towards Zuko as my friend. That warmed my heart more than it should have.

With the moonlight coming down like cold fire across the clearing, I take one breath to blow out the ember for the sake of my friends and especially Zuko and Aang. I take the breath even though in doing this one simple thing I know I'll lose something I don't even have to begin with.

The first spark of something I'm afraid I'll go on losing for a longer time than I mean.

_A/N: Don't worry—Katara will have an angry confrontation with Zuko about the Jia kiss at the opening of the next chapter (right now she just /thinks/ she can control her emotions, but that'll change when she actually talks to Zuko). Also: I was thinking of doing an epic of this sort for The Legend of Korra. However, that would delay update time for this story, which is why I would like your opinions on if it's worth it. Thoughts?_


	16. Some Say in Ice: 5

_A/N: The next chapter will raise panic for about ten different reasons. Until then, enjoy this update! Please note that Kimberly T pointed out a problem in the previous chapter that merited some rewriting—it might be worth at least skimming to see what's been corrected (I just uploaded the revision, so it may be delayed by up to thirty minutes). Also, by popular vote, I will be holding off on the Legend of Korra story until after this is complete. Another change due to popular demand: The first "chapter" of this story, formerly called "Introduction," is now called "Introduction and Chapter Guide." As the title implies, it contains summaries of all chapters to date except the very latest update, which will be added to the document after twenty-four hours have elapsed since update time._

It's still dark when I open my eyes to Aang's face a few inches from mine, unmoved from how we fell asleep late last night facing each other. His chest rises and falls in time to shallow breaths, his brows furrowed as if from some bad dream. I wonder if he cried out in his sleep and this is the thing that startled me awake way too early in the morning. But then I feel the insistent hand on my shoulder and the urgent voice at my ear.

"Katara, we have to go. Wake up."

I roll over to see Zuko leaning over me. A knot twists way down in my stomach, though I silence it with a firm _remember what you decided. _The feeling passes as I push up to my feet. "What's wrong?"

He holds out a sharpened stick. "Training every morning means _every_ morning." When I don't take it, he shoves it at my chest. "Come on or I'll wake you up even earlier tomorrow."

I gawk as he turns his back and walks off across the field without even waiting up. What is _with _him, since I thought we'd left angry Zuko behind? But at least I can add this to a checklist of things I hate about him, a list that will hopefully help me keep my resolve. Examples of some more things to add on: he's almost out of sight by the time I have my shoes on. And he doesn't wait even when I realize I've forgotten my stick and have to run back to grab it, despite the fact that I call for him to stop.

"You had an easy first lesson. Now we'll really fight!" he barks as we face off across a stretch of barren land fairly far from camp.

"I'm ready," I return as pleasantly, stick raised.

But I guess I'm not because when he lunges I haven't even swung my stick by the time his has struck me across the hip hard enough to leave bruising. I rub the spot and wince—but the next second I'm swinging out wildly just to stop another blow on my arm.

"What's wrong with you?" I snap. "Can't you tell I wasn't paying attention?"

"Yes," he growls, this being the exact problem.

We spar for a few more minutes. Of course by _spar_, I mean I randomly swing my arms as he easily parries every attempted strike. His eyes are narrow, his mouth a firm line thinned by more than concentration. "What are you so mad about?" I finally yell.

"_I'm _mad? You're the one who was mad at me yesterday."

"You say that like I had no reason to be upset."

There's a resounding crack of wood against wood as he blocks a swing to the head. "Because you didn't."

"So Jia all over your mouth was nothing?" I burst out, then realize what I've said. "I mean, you shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself like that," I add, quickly backtracking.

He steps back, gazing at me uncertainly. "_Sacrifice?_ It was just a kiss."

"For someone with a girlfriend, kisses don't mean much to you."

A lightning strike catches my knees, knocking me backwards and to the ground. He presses his makeshift blade to my neck, his free hand compressed in a fist. "I told her I had a girlfriend because I was hoping she'd leave me alone. And I was shocked you consider it a 'sacrifice' because that was nothing compared to what I'd do for this team if anyone was in trouble."

He offers me a hand, but I push myself up without taking it. Sighing as if disappointed, he steps away so there's some space between us. As I raise my stick again, I consider his words.

"So you _don't_ have a girlfriend?"

"And?"

"But there must be someone you like."

"We're in the middle of a war," he says, his voice quieter now. "There are more important things, whatever I might want." He pauses, the faintest tinge of red coming into his cheeks. "I'll admit, yesterday . . . I didn't exactly imagine my first kiss going like that."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding until it suddenly feels like he's struck me across the face. "_First _kiss?"

He squints as if he can't tell if I'm being stupid or just naïve. "When you're banished during a war, you don't waste time thinking about love. Now, enough. Sword up."

My arms and body might tell him I'm ready for another round, but my mind's in a very different place. A collection of bruises amasses as he catches me across the shoulders, the arms, once across my back—but how can I focus when the gravity of what he's done, at least in my eyes, is so much greater now? At least mine was with Aang, if our barely-lips-touching version from the cave counts. For us, he gave his first kiss to a stranger. And if he considers this nothing, what must a true sacrifice mean?

"_Katara!_" he yells to snap me out of it. "Pay attention! Raise your sword and defend yourself!"

I do, and for the first time I look at my piece of wood carefully. I see now that he's carved it into the rough likeness of a sword. Since we left the other sticks back in the canyon and he wasn't carrying any last night, he must have gotten up early to make them this morning . . . and probably lost a lot of sleep just to give me a more proper sense of training. Stupid sacrificing Zuko.

While I'm thinking on this tangent, he wastes no time in charging. His arm moves in a blur and there's a flare of pain in the side of my head. The impact throws me down. Panting hard, I grab at my face and feel something wet. My fingers come away red.

"Are you crazy?" I yell. Just speaking sends a slash of pain from my temple to my chin.

"You would _dead_ right now. Your enemies won't wait while you daydream. Pick up your sword."

I get up, my fists tight from anger. "You didn't have to do that," I say, feeling unsteady.

He picks the stick up for me and holds it out. "I'm not going to take pity on your incompetence. Now take it and fight me."

"Forget it, this is _stupid_. You have no idea how to train me, do you? You could've said so when I asked." I turn away and have taken two steps when I'm knocked to my knees by the force of an impact against my back. I spin around and automatically assume a waterbending stance.

"Don't turn your back on an enemy," he warns, throwing the stick so I catch it by instinct. When his next lightning strike comes I have no choice but to throw up my stick in defense. "Good," he says. "Keep your arms pulled in. Knees bent. And _focus_. Don't just watch my weapon. Watch my arms and legs for hints of where I'm going. Remember that a sword is just an extension of the body."

He lunges and I duck under his arm, twisting around at the last moment to bring my stick against his back. Well, almost. At the last moment he catches my stick with his and deflects the blow.

"Pretty good, huh?" I ask, staggering backwards as a sudden pressure squeezes across the place he struck me on the head. I sit down fast and gather my legs so I can rest my forehead on my knees, trying to quell my dizziness and nausea. He squats beside me. Though his eyes betrayal nothing, his hand on my shoulder is comforting.

"Breathe deeply," he says.

"Let me just heal myself."

I bend some liquid from my water skin and lay a hand on the head wound, but then he closes his fingers over mine.

"You can heal it, or you can leave it as a reminder to train better next time," he suggests, though not unkindly.

The way we're situated with me on the ground and him just slightly to my side, I'm looking right at his scar. "You're very focused on the past, aren't you?"

"You can learn a lot from your mistakes."

"You . . . said your father gave this to you." I hold up an unoccupied hand in the open space between us but hesitate at the invisible line, scared to pass too far. I'm reminded of how Zuko looked holding up a palm to one of Jia's ostrich horses so it could smell his hand and grant him trust. He narrows his eyes at my fingers, but then he closes them and bows his head just slightly. I take this as an acceptance and gently rest my hand on the curve of his face. The tissue on his ear is rough and harder than normal skin. I don't let my hand drift towards his eye just yet. Too much and I'll lose this fragile trust and the chance to learn more.

"I challenged a general at a war meeting. My father claimed it was an act of disrespect," he says, keeping his eyes closed.

"Challenged him?" I press gently.

"In a strike against the Earth Kingdom, he wanted to sacrifice a division of soldiers for no reason but to have a distraction for other forces. I spoke out to say he couldn't do that to men who defended a nation they loved." He's quiet for a moment, and I almost think he's going to stop, but then he goes on with this: "My father said the only way to resolve my challenge was with an Agni Kai. A fire duel."

"Against the general? But you said—"

He gets up suddenly and turns his back, leaving me alone on the ground. "If we leave early this morning, we can arrive by noon at Full Moon Bay. Take the sticks this time. We'll need them on the ship if the trip is more than a day." He takes a few steps and hesitates. Without turning around, he adds, "You did a good job today."

Then he walks off as I collect the makeshift swords, though he goes more slowly this time to let me catch up once I finish. But before I follow, I clean the blood off my face and check for lasting injuries. Just a small cut, which I heal up. I fall into step beside him and we walk in silence back to camp where Aang is making soup from some of Jia's supplies.

The airbender's face lights up when he sees me. "Good morning!" he calls, waving. "Hot stew's almost ready to eat."

"Vegetarian stuff," Sokka complains.

"Eat fast," Zuko says, sitting down. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there."

"Thanks, Sir Obvious," my brother snaps. His scowl and crossed arms suggest something more than vegetable stew has gotten him down. That he and Toph are sitting far apart makes me suspect they got in some sort of spat.

This is fairly confirmed when the earthbender says, "Sweetness, I'm riding with you today."

Sokka picks at a chunk of carrot in his soup. "Oh, now I'm hurt."

But Toph ignores him. She dips her head and focuses very intently on her bowl. When we've finished eating, Aang takes the front place on Kan's back and Sokka sits behind him. Toph and I take one of the sighted ostrich horses, leaving Zuko alone again. We spur our animals into a run across the field until we reach the dirt road.

"Let them get ahead," Toph whispers from behind.

Not certain why, I slow down until we're about ten leaps behind the other two. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"That's a good question from me to you. Where'd you two disappear to for an hour?"

"Me and Zuko?"

Her pointedly annoyed sigh is answer enough.

"We . . ." I pause, not because there's anything inherently wrong with her knowing but because I was beginning to see it as my one secret thing with Zuko—but realizing I see the swords as something special between us reminds me that's exactly the kind of thing I've warned myself I have to let go. "I thought his sword skills were pretty impressive, so he just showed me some moves."

"I'm sure he showed you _some_ moves."

"_What?_"

"You guys weren't exactly quiet in leaving. When you woke me up, there weren't even any birds singing yet. What kind of training happens that early?"

"It's cooler in the morning, and swordplay is pretty vigorous."

She sniggers. "Yeah. I'm sure it is."

With encouragement from the reigns and my knees, our ostrich horse closes the distance between us and the others. Let Toph go on for much longer and I'm in for a world of ungrounded accusations. Instead I think back to the story of the scar and try to piece it together. A fire duel between two people. A mark that could once have been a burn. A scar given by his father.

"By opposing his father's appointed general, he challenged the Fire Lord himself," I realize.

"Huh?" Toph asks from behind.

Oh. Hadn't meant that to be out loud. "Nothing," I tell her.

"Now you're talking to yourself? Should I add this to your list of talents?"

I can tell it's going to be a long ride to Full Moon Bay.

But Toph remains surprisingly quiet for the rest of the journey down the road that brings us to a secluded cove. The bay itself and its many ferries are guarded by large battlements, though the fiercest protection in the form of numerous Earth Kindgom guards surrounds a very different ship. Unlike the simple ferries, the _Titan_ built in honor of the Earth King is fit for royalty, as a banner across its high hull proudly proclaims.

Dusty refugees with tired feet and crying children mill all around us. A part of me feels angry at this nation for building a fine ship instead of giving the funds to these people, but a greater part feels sick that I'm about to board that same wasteful ship. I have half a mind to suggest trading in our tickets when Zuko says, "I don't think we're allowed to take the ostrich horses with us. We'll have to sell them here."

Kan stamps the ground and jerks his head. Whether or not he understood exactly what Zuko was saying, the firebender's tone spoke clearly enough.

"What?" I gasp. "You can't sell them, at least not Kan. Who'd buy a blind ostrich horse?"

"I _told_ you to take one that could see," my brother points out helpfully.

"I'm sure they'll find . . . some use for him," Zuko says without looking at me. He takes the sighted animals by the reigns and lays a hand on Kan's beak. "Come on," he tells them gently, the slightest hint of regret in his voice.

I look desperately to Aang, but he's gazing across the waters of the bay. Like me, he knows the fastest and safest way to Ba-Sing-Se is by ship. Besides, we probably wouldn't make it through a steep, narrow, winding pass with a blind ostrich horse. Worst of all, Kan would still be safe on the farm he's known forever if I hadn't been so eager to hurt Jia for what she did . . . which was, what? Giving up tickets and expensive animals for one stupid kiss, even if it was Zuko's first? Realizing that I've hurt Kan because of my pointless anger punches a hole right through me. Out leaks whatever remaining anger I had at the farm girl, leaving behind a saw-edge of guilt. I look at my hands and see they're trembling.

Sokka suddenly yelps. I whip around to see an almost familiar young woman dressed in an Earth Kingdom uniform kissing him on the cheek.

"What'd I miss?" I ask, realizing I'd zoned out.

"It's Suki!" Aang says cheerfully.

My brother is blushing fiercely. "I can't believe it's you," he says, wrapping her in a hug.

"It's good to see all of you," she says.

"You look different without your makeup and in the new outfit," I point out, probing for an explanation.

"After you left the island, the other Kyoshi warriors and I decided to help people however we could. We escorted some refugees to this bay and decided to stay as security guards. These flattering uniforms are standard issue, courtesy of our crabby boss lady."

"I think this look is perfect for you. All the other fancy stuff just detracts from your natural beauty," Sokka says, earning himself a smile.

"How come you guys are here, anyway?" she asks. "You don't need a ship if you've got Appa."

"Appa's missing," I tell her. "We're going to Ba-Sing-Se to search for him."

Suki looks concerned, but before she can say anything else Toph steps between us with Momo on her shoulder. "Sorry to break up the reunion, but we need a team huddle." Suki takes a few steps away, but Toph taps her foot impatiently. "Couple more," she insists. "One more. Another—okay, there." When the Kyoshi warrior is definitely out of earshot, the earthbender whispers, "Who's that?"

"One of the first places we stopped after leaving the South Pole was Kyoshi Island," Aang explains. "She and the warriors gave us a place to stay."

"Yeah, until Zuko had to show up and burn the entire village looking for the Avatar," Sokka adds.

"Sparky burned her village? You think they'll make great friends after that?"

We exchange uncertain glances. I rub my elbows. "She has a point," I say. "If Suki recognizes him, that won't be good. The ship's leaving tonight. We just have to get on now and sit tight in our rooms until then so she doesn't accidentally spot Zuko when he gets back."

Sokka's face as he glances at Suki standing a few feet off is a blend of regret and relief. Half of that reaction doesn't miss Toph. "What'd she kiss you for, anyway?" she grumbles.

"We, uh . . . well, she kind of had a crush on me."

"_Had? _That just now didn't feel like past tense to me."

"It was just a friendly cheek kiss."

"It could've been a lot more if you'd have let her go for it."

"Toph. Sokka. Stop," I say. "We need to find Zuko and get on that ship. Actually, Aang and I will go get Zuko and make sure he keeps away from Suki. You two, stay here and explain that we have to go."

I take Aang by the hand and lead him off to search for the firebender. We squeeze between wandering men and women and children, not daring to call his name in case anyone recognizes the former prince. The faces of strangers surround us, until a trio of women passes by us dressed in simple Earth Kingdom clothes. I almost don't look back, but something about their faces makes me do a double-take. There's something almost familiar, though they're all wearing their hair down . . .

"Katara, look!" Aang says, tugging at my sleeve and pointing. Zuko waves to us from a distance off, just now pocketing some coins. He's also carrying two bags with what must be the supplies from the ostrich horses. I almost ask what happened to them but decide this is a conversation for later. Right now, we have to get to a safe place.

"Where'd your brother get lost?" Zuko asks. "And where's Toph?"

"We kind of ran into one of your old 'friends' from Kyoshi Island," I explain. "While they distract her, you need to get on the ship before we run into anyone else who might hold a grudge against you for burning down her home."

He nods. "Let's go."

As we run back towards the place where the _Titan_ is anchored, I gaze out across the inlet with its mostly dark waters, all except for a single place lit up by a circle of light pouring through a lone opening in the cavernous ceiling. Usually I love the way light moves across water, but seeing that spotlight chase away the shadows of the bay squeezes something down inside my stomach. Some sense, real or just intuition, whispers a warning that we're about to step into our own revealing light. I tell myself it's just fear that Suki will see us, but the feeling doesn't pass as we hand over our three tickets and go up the plank.

From the deck, I look out across the water to the sea beyond the cavern, the final thing between Ba-Sing-Se and us. But it's only midafternoon and a long time until the ship departs at dusk. Taking a calming breath, I try to wait patiently. I try to wait and meanwhile clear away the urgent feeling, like a buried memory, trying to warn me about something I can't quite place.


	17. Some Say in Ice: 6

_A/N: Just for giggles, I would love to hear your immediate reaction to the final line of this chapter (get your mouse off that scrollbar—no skipping ahead!). Everything will be explained in the next chapter, I promise. More seriously, what do you think of the pacing (too slow for your taste or just right)? Also, the importance of a moment that confused many of you all the way back in "Some Say the World Will End in Fire: 2" is finally about to be explained (I'm telling you guys, you gotta trust me). Finally, I just realized that "Ba Sing Se" doesn't have hyphens. No idea why I've been doing that all along. o_o_

Our tickets take us to a series of private rooms below deck. Each is small and equipped with only a nightstand and a cot enough for one person, that and one large porthole with a view of the waters beyond. I sit on the bed and watch the window cool from a deep blue to almost black as the sun falls towards evening. I rest one hand on the glass and close my eyes, sinking into that dark world.

There is a very soft tap at the door. I expect Aang and tell him to come in, but it's Zuko who looks inside. "You've been in here all afternoon," he says, stepping halfway through the doorway.

"Oh," I say, not knowing what else to say.

He doesn't make a move to come in further, but neither does he step back outside. "There was a man with a child who was looking for ostrich horses," he tells me. "I sold all three to him. His daughter liked Kan's blue eyes."

I guess this is his way of getting at the reason he thinks I've been stuck in my room all day. I nod, halfway because I don't actually believe this is what happened to the animals but also because there's a deeper hurt resting on my mind. "Thanks," I say, though I'm not entirely sure what I'm being grateful for. I'm just hoping he takes this as a cue to go.

"I just came down to tell you they're about to serve dinner upstairs."

"I'll see you there."

"Should I wait for you?"

I look down at the floorboards and study the chocolate whorls in the pale brown planks. "I'll come up soon."

He studies me for another moment. The door closes with the slightest snap of air, but he remains on my side of it. "Katara," he says. _Katara_, and nothing else.

The shutting door is a sound so final it forces my gaze back on his face. There is one small candle lit on the nightstand, and the way the light falls across him lights up his eyes and the flickering gold fire inside them.

"I_ know_ we're going to find Appa in the city," I say with emphasis, by which I actually mean for some reason a foreboding has come over me that makes this hope burn less brightly than before. He makes a move toward the cot but then seems to have a second thought and sits on the floor with his back against the wall opposite me. In the tight space, we're still only maybe two feet apart. He doesn't say anything. I know he's waiting for me to break the silence with whatever things are bothering me.

"I think we're going to find your uncle there, too," I temporize. "Didn't you say he talked about opening a tea shop in Ba Sing Se after the war? I bet he found a way out of the desert and is waiting for us there right now."

He remains silent, though at the mention of Iroh he glances at the darkened porthole. Whether he looks with longing, with fear, with regret—this much, I can't tell. It's the one thing about our new Zuko that gets at me, the absolute emotional control he can have when he needs it most. Or maybe he just suspects that in reaction to his calm, I'll have more to say.

But I don't want to reveal the thing working its way like an ice splinter into my heart, which is disappointment at the stupidity of my many decisions based on nothing but rash emotion. It goes beyond choosing Kan instead of a sighted steed and throwing him into danger. When we stood there on the deck earlier in the afternoon and I looked away from the bay and at Zuko and Aang standing beside me, a memory rose like water. It took me back to Iroh with hypothermia in the dark and me trying to convince Zuko to accept my help. He trusted me, and we took his uncle down to the creek. But then I offered Zuko a chance to warm up, too, and promised to keep the water warm . . . until in a sudden surge of some emotion—anger, confusion, I don't even remember—I froze the pool when he'd trusted me to keep him warm. And it had hurt him more than he cared to admit, which is something I guess I do without meaning to sometimes. I look at Zuko sitting across from me, waiting for my secret thoughts to spill across the room as he had spilled some of his earlier that morning about his father and fire duel.

I sigh. Some things you have to gather a breath and just say.

"I'm very emotionally driven, and that can be a good thing because it helps me connect with people," I tell him. "But I also know I have a pretty bad temper. It's gotten me in trouble before, but after what happened with Kan I'm more worried than ever that it'll get others in trouble . . . because of me."

He nods. "You can be fierce when provoked, but your emotions make you compassionate. Everything good comes with a bad side."

"But that doesn't mean I can just let my temper reach boiling point over nothing! I need to learn how to control myself like you've learned to. Well, mostly. Other than this morning."

"We discussed this. You didn't get up right away and weren't paying proper attention," he chastises, though he's smiling. "I had a reason to be angry."

I look hard at the floor, his attempt at lighthearted banter not echoed in my response. "Something I feel angry when I know I shouldn't be, like I was at you this morning. Or that one time a while ago when I froze the water you were warming up in. When your uncle was cold, remember? I guess I held such a grudge because of everything you represented that I wasn't willing to trust you with a second chance. I could have hurt you. That's the kind of thing I'm afraid of."

His hand moves up his face and pinches the place between his eyes. "Katara, you were justified in not trusting me. I wasn't exactly friendly when you offered help, and I'd been your enemy for so long. And don't worry about my reaction to the water. It was a personal overreaction." He sighs into his palms. "I've been afraid of cold water ever since our journey to the Northern Water Tribe."

My stomach does a roll. "You're afraid of water?"

"Just cold water. To try to capture Aang, I needed to breach the protected walls. I took a kayak to the shores outside of the outer wall and saw some turtle seals dive through an opening in the ice. I knew they had to surface for air somewhere, so I dove and followed them in."

Footsteps fall on the floorboards in the outside hallway, hushing him up. A full minute passes in silence, but now it's my turn to wait and his to speak when he's ready.

"There were underground caves and air pockets where I could come up to breathe for the first part of the swim. At the end of the final passage when I thought I'd hit an exit into open air, it was just a sheet of lightly colored ice. I was running out of breath, and my only hope was to superheat my hands to melt it. When I burned through, I came out safely in an ice tunnel within the walls of the city."

The silence is a flood now. I hear it roar in my head and scratch like rainfall in my ears. "But you made it out okay," I say, needing to break the static.

"There was a moment when I didn't know that. I didn't even know what was past that sheet of ice, air or more water, and that's what I remember every time I'm submerged in the cold now. And the fear freezes me worse than the water."

As I try to imagine being afraid of the element in which I am most at home, I notice Zuko looking at the porthole again. Probably some very small part of him is afraid of what would happen if that glass broke through and the cold sea flooded inside.

"Let's go upstairs to eat," he says. His tone lets me know the conversation is over.

We take a staircase leading back onto the deck. In the time I was locked below in my room, the ship set off from the bay. It's only shortly past sunset, and the sky is still soaked with purples and reds and golds. I follow Zuko through a set of wooden doors leading us into a wide room with many round tables encircling an open space.

"They really made this ship fancy," I say in mild awe.

"That someone is a refugee in the Earth Kingdom doesn't mean that person is poor," Zuko points out.

"Yeah. And some use this bay just for comfort to get to the city, like your little farm girl."

He squints, but my grin tells him I'm teasing. "Do you see anyone else?" he asks.

"Not yet . . . oh, there!"

The trio is clustered around a corner table with two more empty seats. Momo is lounging on the airbender's head.

"Katara!" Aang calls as soon as he sees me. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. I just needed some time to think." I sit down next to Sokka while Zuko takes the remaining empty seat between me and Toph. Aang is wedged between my brother and the earthbender. "Everything okay with you guys?"

Sokka rolls his eyes. "Yeah, great. Except Toph keeps kicking me. Hey!"

She folds her arms on the tablecloth and rests her chin, ignoring his glare. "There, Sparky and Sugar Queen are done with their private time. Can we order and eat already?"

"_Toph_," I hiss, upset over the bright patches probably glowing on my cheeks. "We were just talking."

She picks up the small menu resting on her plate and says nothing because she knows I'm not lying. Her mouth, however, is a grin.

"Did you work everything out with Suki?" I ask.

Toph's hands tighten on the menu and Sokka glares into his empty plate. At least the mystery of this seeming conflict between them seems to be resolved. Aang shrugs and holds up his palms to show he doesn't know, either. That she's not at the table means they obviously got it sorted out somehow, though the details might not be soon in coming.

"Everything looks so good," I say loudly, scanning the menu. "Do you think they have any Water Tribe stuff? Maybe sea prune stew?"

Aang hides his face behind his menu. "I think this noodle soup looks good. What do you think?" he asks, holding the menu up to Momo. His lemur grabs the paper and holds it for a moment, then climbs down and hides under the table with the menu in tow.

"I'll have the roast duck," Zuko says to a waiter who comes over to take our orders.

My brother's eyes light up. "Same for me," he says.

"I'm feeling like lots of desserts today," Toph says. "Hit me up with all the different kinds of cakes you have."

"You need to eat at least something healthy," I say. "You can get an apple or moon peach—"

"Desserts!" she announces.

Aang pokes his head out from under the table where he'd crawled down to fetch Momo and his menu. "The noodle soup for me, please."

"No sea prune stew," I say sadly. "I guess I'll have some noodle soup, too."

The waiter makes a mental note of all this and hurries off. While we wait for our meals to arrive, my eyes drift across the room. Nothing out of the usual strikes me . . . until suddenly I sit straight up in my seat. The three women from before are sitting at another corner table far across the room from us, but even from all the way over there one of them is watching me very intently. As soon as she notices me staring, she looks back at her menu. Even though I couldn't make her face out clearly, the one thing I know is I recognized something about the intensity of that gaze. I've seen her somewhere before.

As our orders arrive, I touch Zuko on the arm. "Hey," I whisper.

"What?"

"Look over there." I point to the distant table. "Those people don't seem familiar to you, do they?"

He looks, but as the women have their backs facing to us there's not much he can make out. "What's wrong?"

"Your uncle mentioned that Azula, the girl who attacked him with lightning, is your sister. She travels with those two other girls, right? That can't be them, can it?"

His whole body tenses. "We need to get closer. I can't see from here."

"Guys, we'll be right back," I tell the rest of the team.

"Yeah, they're going to go make out in a corner somewhere," Toph teases, though I'm not sure where all of these unfounded me-and-Zuko innuendoes are coming from. She might just be trying to annoy Sokka, who probably doesn't appreciate mental images of his little sister and some firebender kissing.

Just thinking that sets an image inside my own mind that burns my cheeks hot again.

"Let's go," I say quickly, getting up after only a few small sips of my soup. We weave among the tables, working our way casually across the room. We're halfway between our table and that of the three women when the room fills up with applause. A cluster of musicians bows on a raised platform at one end of the room. Among the instruments I recognize are an erhu, a pipa, and a flute.

An older man steps out in front of the band to introduce the evening's live entertainment. I distantly hear him welcoming couples to dance and asking for—

"Ah!" he cries out suddenly, stepping quickly across the large empty space at the center of the hall. "It appears we already have two eager volunteers to open the dance floor."

In front of me, Zuko freezes. The man beckons to us, and suddenly I realize that other than the waiters we are the only ones standing in the seated hall. "Uh . . . hold on. I-I think there's a misunderstanding," I manage to stutter.

"Nonsense!" the man says, taking my hand and Zuko's and dragging us to the center of the dance floor. "I think a good slow song to start us off . . ." he murmurs to himself as he struts back off toward the platform to direct the band to start.

Over the course of my entire life, there have probably been only a few moments when I wished I was an earthbender so I could open up the ground beneath me and hide down in the safe darkness when my face was burning red from the awkwardness of a situation. Never have I wished it quite as hard as I do right this minute with me and Zuko standing alone at the center of dozens of tables of goggling eyes staring right at us as the musicians start up a soft, humming rhythm.

Zuko's face is lit as brightly. "Let's just get this over with," he whispers without looking at me. "We can sneak away as soon as more people join."

"I'm not sure I know how to," I admit.

It seems his face softens when I say that. "I'll show you. I've been trained in ballroom dance since I was young."

"But everyone's watching."

"Pretend it's just you and me, like when we're training. Remember how I keep telling you to focus? Just do that." He gently guides my left hand to his arm and takes my right hand tightly in his own. His free hand goes to my waist. "Focus on me and don't worry about them."

Zuko steps forward, and our locked arm position forces me to step back. He steers me in a slow turn. I tip my chin up to focus on his face because it's the only way to remember to breathe. My chest hurts from thinking about all of those people staring, waiting for me to mess up—

I trod on his foot and he stumbles, throwing us off beat. If I were a firebender, I probably couldn't superheat my face hotter. I start on an apology, but he only smiles and moves my hand back to his arm. "You're doing great. Just don't be nervous."

"You don't know. Maybe dancing is my cold water."

But more people are now beginning to come onto the dance floor so we're no longer the center of attention. "No one's watching. Just focus," he says. "Think of something you're comfortable doing."

I pretend we're fighting instead of dancing, pushing and pulling in a yin-and-yang ring of motion around our small space on the floor. It's not much of a stretch because in some ways those two things are intertwined anyway, like in my old home in the south. After a particularly successful hunt, sometimes the village men would return in the dark and dance in elaborate ceremonies around the central fires to express physically what they felt during the fight. It's not with our words but with our bodies that we communicate best, be it the proximity of swordplay or the intensity of bending or just circling around one another in the now-crowded hall of a ship. I let myself relax into his arms just slightly, savoring this one small moment of—

He stops suddenly and I stamp on his foot again, too immersed in the dance to break the rhythm as quickly. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"I think we can go." He grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd. I tell myself I'm not disappointed he cut us short, but some small part of me—or maybe not that small of a part—wishes he had waited until the end of the song.

"Where did you see those women?" he asks.

"Over . . . oh, no."

The previously occupied table is empty except for some plates still smeared with food remains that a waiter is now clearing off.

"If my sister's running loose on this ship, we need to be careful," he says. "Just in case, let's go warn the others."

As we work our way back around to our table, we hear a sudden shout rip across the hall. "Sokka!" I cry, recognizing my brother's voice immediately.

People turn to stare in the general direction of the yell. Zuko runs ahead with his hands compressed to fists. I know he's ready to fight his sister and her friends with fire if they dare to touch any of our friends, and my hands have also gone to my water skin by the time I spot our table. Indeed, the three women are standing there with backs to us again. Aang and Sokka are on their feet, and only Toph is still seated with a slightly bemused expression. I don't understand how she can react to Azula and her friends so calmly until one of the women turns to face me.

I freeze, and Zuko alongside me.

Looking into the woman's face, I don't immediately recognize the shaggy mane of brown hair poking out from beneath a darker-colored wig. The grin is familiar, but this too is not what stops me cold. It is the eyebrows I remember, the ones that burned into my mind so firmly that I haven't been able to forget them since.

"Katara," the woman says simply in greeting, who I realize now is no woman at all.

It's Jet.


	18. Some Say in Ice: 7

_A/N: *Strokes pretend Ozai beard* Yes, yes, some of you are right. We've been dragging through slower chapters for quite some time, haven't we? Now that won't do at all, not at all. Don't worry about Jet because he's going to be key in the next few chapters. Meanwhile, shall we throw in some danger for our fabulous cast as we finally encounter the literal implications of "Some Say [the World Will End] in Ice" at the conclusion of this (short, I know) chapter? *Continues to stroke pretend Ozai beard* Yes, this unfortunate turn of events I like . . . _

In the first moment I'm immobilized by a budding rage that flashes me back to the last time we parted: Jet frozen to a tree while the rest of us flew off into the wide and welcoming sky. I stand motionless and stare at this person I helped and trusted, someone who for a very small time I thought might become more than just a friend.

"Hey. Didn't expect to see you around here," he says as the other two not-women—Smellerbee and Longshot—nod greetings. "Heading to the city, too?" he asks with a sly grin.

I take one bold stride forward and sweep an open palm towards my nearly untouched noodle soup. The water in the bowl beckons. If he thinks for half of a second that I've forgiven him for—

Zuko steps between us. "Hello," he says to the newcomers, though not before pinning me down with a glare. "I don't believe we've met." I flatten my palm against my side and try cycling calming breaths in and out and in and out again. I know Zuko's trying to give me a chance to cool my temper before it boils out of control, but he doesn't know what Jet did. What he _is_.

"Hmm, that's right." Jet reaches into a pocket of his dress and sticks a stalk of prairie grass between his teeth. "My name's Jet. These are my freedom fighters—"

Maybe it's not right to let my temper flare, but I can't stand the sound of his voice or even the sight of him, a person I hoped never to meet again. "What are you doing here?" I say, pushing past Zuko. I meant to yell it, but the near-accusation comes out low and almost hoarse. Which might be a good thing, considering the steadily accumulating volume of glances we're getting already.

"Can we take this outside?" Jet offers. I guess he's noticing the whispers and looks, too.

"You know what, I don't even care why you're here," I snap. "Get back to your table and stay out of our way. Then we won't have any problems, got it?"

"Guys . . ." Aang says quietly, lifting a hand.

I ignore him, and Jet only shrugs. "Listen, I figure we should just call it cool. I even came over to say hey because I'm a changed man from the person you knew. That's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se. Good place for a new beginning and a second chance, don't you think?"

Oh, I don't doubt that settling in a new place is a way to set a person on a fresh track, but it takes a certain baseline for that to be possible. "Some people don't change," I tell him, deciding I don't need any part of this conversation or to hear more of whatever lies he plans to feed us. I stamp halfway across the room before glancing back at my friends and the freedom fighters still ringing the table. I raise my hand and feel for the noodle soup, lifting it from the bowl and bending it into a glistening sphere—which I splash clear across Jet's face.

"Hey!" he shouts at my back as I push open the double door leading out to the deck.

I cross my arms on the wooden railing and rest my chin down. Way off in the distance burns the last bit of sunset, a very small orb of red-purple light crouching right on the horizon. It looks a tiny flame or heart in a cave of darkness, pulsing out its fading light to whatever world might still care to look. It occurs to me how many times that little spark has traveled through the waters of the sky, of the sad and beautiful things whispered to it by people bound to the earth. I've sometimes looked up and up and wondered what it might be like to be the sun. In the end I've decided it would be nothing but heartbreak, having to look down forever on a world you can never touch. Me, who loves people, I don't think I could stand that. From my place on the deck I bend a thin stream from the sea and cup it in my hands, just to see the stars reflected from where they shine through the dark waters of the night and to hold a small piece of the world so close. I stay this way for a while.

"I've never seen a sunset like that."

Maybe he's been standing behind me for some time, or maybe he only just now came up to join me. Either way, Aang leans his arms against the railing as looks out at the flickering heart in the darkness, too. He doesn't ask why I'm holding water. He doesn't force me to tell him I'm okay. He just says the sky is beautiful and leans his head on my shoulder like he's tired, because he has a way of knowing I'm hurt from seeing Jet again and need the company. I let the water go and instead wrap my arms around him so we're standing together facing the sea.

"Do you think that's the Serpent's Pass?" he asks suddenly.

"What is?"

He points to a series of rising and diving rocky arches coming out of the sea a distance away. "If that's it, I guess the name makes sense. If there's a path over those cliffs, it must be twisted and dangerous."

I shrug and rest my cheek on his arrow. For this one moment I again find comfort in Aang's presence, just the two of us pressed against each other. Then I hear him take a breath and half-turn to face me, his eyes meeting mine and his mouth opening as if to say—

"Hey, sorry to break this up, but I got a bone to pick with my little sis."

We both glance back to see Sokka standing behind us, arms crossed. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"We need to talk. Aang, your soup's getting cold. Go back inside."

I sigh. "Go ahead," I tell the airbender. "I'll be okay."

He gives me a lingering look but nods and disappears back into the dining hall.

"Finally. I've been trying to get you alone for ages," my brother says, drumming his fingers on the railing. "Now, explain."

"Explain what?"

"You and Zuko."

"Me and Zuko _what_?"

"Toph says you two have been sneaking off every morning while the rest of us are asleep for some kind of private lessons with _swordplay_. That's one. And two, did you see the roast duck they brought me?"

"Uh . . ."

"It had this really dark red sauce smeared all over it—really good stuff, by the way. But you know what? That sauce had _nothing_ on the color of your face when you two were dancing."

The red sauce color is probably all over my face again. "Sokka, stop it. I didn't ask for that dance."

"Listen, you already made a bad call once on your little not-boyfriend with the prairie grass." He leans against the railing. "I'm just watching out for you, especially since you came out here right after your dance to have that weird hug therapy session thing with Aang. Which by the way is something else we need to talk about—"

"Sokka, I . . . I'm going to bed," I announce, marching off. I know he means well, but I can take care of myself when it comes to dealing with my own feelings.

"Katara, get back here! Katara? Oh, fine. We'll talk first thing tomorrow. Do you hear me? First thing!" He lets me get halfway back to the steps leading below deck before calling, "Oh, wait! Actually, one more thing."

I sigh. "What?"

My brother runs over to join me, though he first surveys the deck to make sure we're alone. "You're right about still not trusting Jet. That guy's creepy _and _a jerk. You know, nothing new," he says, his voice down to a whisper. "You want to know why he and his freedom fighters are dressed like girls?"

"I almost don't."

"He was bragging about his cleverness after you left. They were going to take one of the regular ferries but decided this ship looked more 'cushy'—hey, don't look at me, that's the word he used—but they didn't have enough money for these special tickets. When they tried to sneak on the first time, they were spotted and banned from the harbor. So then they mugged some tourists to pay for the tickets and stole luggage from a family to grab disguises for their second trip to the ticket lady. They wanted men's clothes but got a bag of girl stuff by mistake. They've been women ever since and can't change in guy stuff anyway because the ship's captain has orders to kick off a trio going by their original description."

"The stupid grass should be a dead giveaway anyway. That and the eyebrows," I point out. "But I can't believe he mugged someone! I should go back in there and . . . and . . . _ugh_!"

A few dim candles light the way back down the steps and hallways to my room. Once inside, I crawl under the sheets and roll onto my side. I wish I'd brought down a glass of water so I could sip small gulps of coolness to calm the anger burning me up. That Jet, mugging and stealing. So much for a changed man. I almost want to drag myself back out of bed and go confront him, but I know Zuko would tell me to stay put until my initial spark of temper cooled.

Zuko, who'll probably come talk to me later about the good job I did in walking away from an almost-fight.

I catch myself glancing at the door and wondering what's taking him so long. A few times I hear footsteps outside, but it's just some other people drifting off to their rooms. I roll to my other side and stare at a candle some ship attendant lit and left on the nightstand. Trickles of wax go down and down, but no knock comes at my door and soon a different anger starts in me. I don't ask for the feeling and tell myself_, You're not angry and have no right to be. _But I can't talk myself out of it. That's how much I want Zuko to come here and talk to me, only for some reason he's just not doing it. I almost get up to go find his room myself, but I didn't check his ticket for the room number. Who knows where he's staying.

I sigh and pull the sheets over my head, deciding I'll find him in the morning. Instead I piece together a good dream about all of us getting to Ba Sing Se and finding Appa and Iroh and having the best kind of tea together on the sky bison's saddle. If Jet wasn't a horribly lying jerk, maybe I'd even invite him and his friends along.

Iroh is just getting to the punch line of a tea joke when I'm thrown, literally, awake.

I'm tangled in a folded mass of sheets against the wall opposite my bed with no idea of how I got there. Fighting the sheets off, I get up and squint but it's too black to make anything out by sight. I feel for the remains of the burned-down candle on the nightstand, only . . . where'd it get to? My knee finds it first by cracking right into it; it's also lying sideways against the apparently attractive wall. While rubbing the bruise I feel something else, namely my feet getting wet and ice-water cold.

I suddenly realize that my clothes where I was lying on the ground are also damp. The blankets, too, have sucked up water. I feel for the door, hoping that the candles outside are still—

The whole ship lunges, knocking me backwards. My head slams the wall and I drop to my hands and knees. I pant to catch my breath, and for a moment my body feels like it's filling up with darkness. Breathing is tough because my lungs can only push so hard against the wave of nausea, of headache, of dizziness.

Yells from outside force me to stand. I use the wall as a prop for my hands and a shoulder as I feel my way to the door. I try to force it open, but it's jammed. Instead I bend the thin layer of water now coating the entire floor of my room to slam the door wide open, admitting a wash of candlelight.

That and the sight of water filling up a slanted hallway and the sounds of people screaming somewhere up on the deck.

_A/N: Enjoyed that fairly quick but brief update? Not enough to satisfy your hunger for more? Don't worry. The next chapter will be long (though quite troubling). Also, two parting notes on Jet. One, "cushy" is actually an awesome word brought to my attention by Kimberly T—thank you! Two, Jet and Katara are going to get an alone scene. The (full) background story of the women stuff will come then. Stay tuned._


	19. Some Say in Ice: 8

_A/N: **[Important update contained in this A/N—please read!] **On June 29, 2012, the first day when applicant information was actually transmitted to medical schools, I received several secondary applications to fill out and will continue to receive many such applications in the coming weeks. Each involves me writing an average of around three essays (unique per medical school), and some schools have up to nine essays to complete. While this does take a deep cut at my writing time, rest assured that I will not be giving up on this story. Updates are simply going to be slower in coming, especially in mid-July. The good news is that from now on my profile page will contain updates regarding progress on each upcoming chapter. This way you'll know I haven't dropped off the face of the planet if a chapter update is delayed. Meanwhile, reviews are inspiration and motivation—and thank you all so much for sticking with me thus far through this saga. Your support is greatly treasured._

_Edit: Thank you to JackieStarSister as always for helpful revision tips._

Water splashes up to my ankles. I take off sprinting down the hall as doors fly open behind, beside, ahead of me. Those candles that haven't fallen from their holders light my way. Passengers stumble out in their nightgowns and brace themselves in doorways as the ship lurches again, this time throwing me forward against the stairs. I shake off the stars clouding my eyes and run up to the deck. The blush of sunrise tints the distant sky pink, just enough to see by. A dozen people have already beaten me up here and are crowding against the side of the ship.

"What happened? What'd we hit?" I yell, hoping someone knows.

"You say that like it's our fault. It was a Fire Nation ship that hit _us_."

It could've been anyone else, only of course it's Jet who says this from his place by the wooden railing. An instant spark of anger heats me up. Yeah, sure. A Fire Nation ship. "What did you do?" I growl, coming over to join him.

"Me? I was thrown out of bed and came right up here."

I sigh and sweep my gaze across the waters, but I don't see any signs of anyone out here but us. "Where's this ship of yours?"

He points to the narrow strip of land Aang realized earlier must be the Serpent's Pass. "See that drowned section?"

We're closer to it than before. If I squint, I can clearly make out what he means. "Yeah. And?"

"That's a link between the East and West Lakes, half of which is under Earth Kingdom control and the other half under the Fire Nation's. Isn't it obvious? They send patrol ships to prowl their side of the lake. One of them must have fired at us. We're close enough to take a hit."

I lean halfway over and scan the side of our ship. "Wouldn't we see a big burning hole in the hull?"

His lips tighten around an apparently mandatory stalk of prairie grass. I'm beginning to wonder if he even sleeps with that thing in his mouth. "You _assume_ they'd use fire," he says. "I wouldn't put it past them to be getting sneaky. All I know is we're taking on water. What else could have broken through the—"

"Katara, where are you?"

"Over here!" I shout, calling Aang over.

He joins the growing clutter of people staring into the water and out at the Serpent's Pass. "Did you see what happened?" he asks.

"I didn't _see_ it, but I bet a Fire Nation—"

"It doesn't matter," I say, cutting Jet off. "If the lower levels are filling with water, we just need to worry about get everyone off this ship to safety."

Aang nods. "We're not that far from the Serpent's Pass. You and I can build an ice path for everyone to cross."

I scan the crowd for our friends, but the rest of them must still be down in their rooms. A lot of people are probably just now realizing their cabins are filling with water or are even still asleep. "Jet," I say, though I can't believe I'm about to turn over this responsibility to him. "You're going to do something for me. Got it?"

"You could ask nicely," he says, grinning in his usual fashion. The kind of grin that tempts a smack from my palm.

"Get everyone awake and up here. Tell my brother what's going on and get him and my other friends to help you. Aang and I are going to start freezing a path across the water." I cut him open with a glare. "Can I trust you on that?"

"You've got nothing to worry about. I'll get it taken care of," he assures me entirely unconvincingly, but there's nothing else I can do when the ship's sinking and probably half of these people can't even swim. If there's one problem with the Earth Kingdom it's the lack of water in most places and certainly no need to learn your way around deep water like this.

"Take care of this," Aang says, handing Jet his glider staff. Then the airbender and I leap over the side of the ship, bending the water so it catches us and softens the impact of our drop. I ride a current back up to the surface and then cast a path of ice towards the far rocky shore. He races me on his own small sheet of ice, widening the trail. Wind sweeps in from the open bay and flaps over our clothes. We finish the path and circle back to thicken the ice so it's safer to cross. In the distance I spot the first of the passengers starting to move across the ice in a single-file line, gripping each others' shoulders and waists through the kind of trust only immediate danger can seal between strangers. Jet, Smellerbee, and Longshot are helping people down from the ship and directing them across the path. I mouth a silent _thank-you _that Jet's capable of at least this much, though it's not nearly enough to warrant a direct thanks to his face. I don't know what he'd have to do to earn that out of me.

Aang and I are nearly back to the ship when my own name echoes across the water, magnified somehow by the wide and open distance as if the waves are singing it, but it's no song but scream that pours _Katara _into my ears.

Though I recognize the voice as Jet's, everyone still on deck is struggling back up to their feet. The ship must have been struck again, but I definitely didn't see any shots from Fire Nation waters. There are few moments in life when you are seized by the sudden knowledge of something very dangerous coming, but for me this was one of them. I could sense a stir under the water, something rising out of the depths, feel it breaking through the surface and rearing over the ship long before I understand for the first time exactly why this place is called the Serpent's Pass.

A monstrous creature bursts out of the water, its arrival hailed by dozens of screams and shouts. The enormous serpent, thick as a tree trunk and brightly colored jade with purple bands, opens its mouth to reveal toothy jaws and a shrill cry.

"I'll distract him," Aang calls, first to react. "Katara, just make sure everyone gets across."

He shoots past me on a path of ice and calls for Jet to throw down his staff. Opening up the glider, he swoops skyward and circles a ring around the serpent's head. I ride a wave up to the deck and find the freedom fighters trying to get control of the crowd.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of this," Smellerbee tells me. Longshot nods to second her promise.

"Did you find my friends?" I ask Jet.

He helps a small boy and his mother climb over the railing. "Yeah, I got the little girl with the weird eyes and that guy with the scar to help me out. They checked all the rooms downstairs."

"What about Sokka?"

He shrugs. "Haven't seen him. Hey, hey!" he shouts at a man pushing his way through the line. "Quit trying to start a panic."

I leave them to take care of the passengers and instead join Aang in fighting off the serpent, which must have been the thing to pierce the hull of the ship with its spiny back or tail. I zip past it on a small piece of ice, freezing the water around its midsection as a punch of air from Aang's staff slaps across the serpent's head. The creature shrieks again, wrenching free of my icy hold with a sharp twist of its body. Most of the passengers have started across the ice path by now, and I even see Toph and Smellerbee and Longshot in the rear of the crowd. The ship itself is halfway underwater, one end of it tilted at a high angle above the surface.

"Hey! _Hey!_ How about you come and face me!"

Jet is standing on the railing, a single hook sword drawn and waving over his head to get the serpent's attention. The prairie grass twitches in his mouth as the creature lunges for him. He leaps sideways out of the way of its first strike, then reverses his footing and jumps for its head. Grabbing hold of one whisker with his free hand, he shrieks as the creature shakes its head fiercely to knock him off. But Jet doesn't let go and I know he's buying time for me and Aang to make sure the path stays frozen.

"Come on!" I tell the airbender, and we circle back around to escort the passengers to land. We run ahead on the path, casting a fresh sheet of ice ahead of the crowd. When we're close to shore, we draw to the sides and urge the others past us. They rush onto solid ground, breathing heavily but safe.

"Ask around to see if anyone's missing," Aang says. "I'll go help Jet."

"No need." The young man in question runs up to us across the ice path, his clothes soaked through and his hook sword streaked red. "I don't think that guy's going to bother us now," he says, jabbing a thumb back at the place where barely anything is still visible of the ship.

I sigh, feeling the slightest tinge of an unwanted smile creeping across my lips. "You did a good job," I admit.

He grins, though not unkindly. "Is everyone safe?"

Aang is already moving among the crowd. He calls me over to attend to a little girl's scratches, an old man's twisted ankle from a slip on the ice. As I ease healing water over a cut on a young man's arm, Toph calls my name out from close by.

"Over here!" I shout back.

She runs over panting. "We've got a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"Not everyone's here."

"Who's missing?" I ask, though the tightness of her voice and clenched fists should have been clues enough even before she speaks again.

"We couldn't find your brother anywhere in the cabins, so Sparky said he'd go look for him. But they're not here!"

I listen to her say these words as I turn the young man loose, his arm cut safely healed. His _thank-you _passes nearly deafly across my ears, irrelevant in a suddenly frozen world. The crowd fades, Toph fades, and all I can see is a gray wash of nothing but the idea that the ship has now sunk beneath the water and my brother and Zuko are drowned somewhere down there or maybe the serpent got a meal after all. I drop straight down on my knees, shuddering and sinking farther on my heels as a sob breaks out of my chest. It's only very distantly that I hear footsteps coming to meet me and feel a hand lift my chin up.

"Katara, what's wrong?" Aang asks, his eyes meeting mine.

"We're missing Sokka and Zuko," Toph explains.

The airbender helps me stand, and I look to see Jet stroking his chin and gazing out at the water. "If they're still on the ship, we might be able to get them back if we go right now," he points out.

His words are a cooling and much-needed touch of logic. "You're right," I say.

"I can go," Aang offers, but I shake my head even before I understand why I need to be the one to do this.

"He's my brother. I'll go get him and Zuko," I tell him, wrapping him up in a hug. "And if the serpent comes back, you can stay here and protect these people."

"I'll watch your back," Jet says. "The serpent won't dare mess with me again. You two"—he motions at his freedom fighters—"stay here and help the Avatar."

Me and Jet alone? The thought makes me hesitate for the slightest instance, but there are lives on the line. Whatever personal issues we two have, he'll make a good ally. "Fine," I tell him. "Let's go."

"Be careful!" Aang calls as Jet and I take off running across the ice.

"Yeah, and give your brother a slap for scaring us like this when you save him," Toph adds, though her voice is so low I barely hear its whisper across the water. Then the two of us are too far from the shore to hear more.

The ship is fully beneath the surface now, but we can use the end of the ice path as an approximate mark of its location. "We checked all of the cabins and your brother wasn't in any of them," Jet says on the run over. "That's why your friend with the scar went to look for him."

"If they aren't down there, where else could they be?"

"He's _your _brother. Where would he go in the middle of the night?"

Time to start ticking off on my fingers. Bathroom? Maybe. Just a stroll through some hallway? Could be. Hmm . . . but it wasn't _really _the middle of the night but actually close to sunrise. Even now the low sun paints golds across the water.

Early morning. Breakfast time.

"I bet he went to sneak some food out of the kitchen," I say. "And if he got knocked against one of the counters and lost consciousness, he'd still be there unless Zuko found him."

"So let's swim down and go get them," Jet says. "My friends and I kind of made a quick stop by the kitchen ourselves late last night for seconds. We can get in from outside through the windows."

We skid to a halt at the edge of the path, gazing down into the deep waters and the dark shadow hovering eerily far below. "I'll hold a bubble of air around our heads. Just don't swim out of sight," I warn.

He pulls the prairie grass out of his mouth and flicks it across the water. We watch the waves bat it back and forth for a moment as his eyes darken with focus. "Okay. Ready."

We step down into the icy water as I seal bubbles of air around our heads. In the first moment we're shivering violently, but the feeling passes until it feels like we're only pleasantly cool. I strike out first towards the dark shape far below with Jet following along behind. Small fish flicker past us like shining arrowheads or licks of fire. Twice I think I see something large moving in the dark, but it's only a trick of the light. Or maybe the serpent hasn't decided to lash out at us just yet.

Far below, the sunken ship rests on a wide plain of mud and rippling seaweed. Jet tugs at my sleeve and points to a row of large portholes, the ones leading into the kitchen. We dive towards them and press our faces to the glass, trying to discern shapes in the gloom. Probably seeing nothing either, he taps my shoulder and draws a circle shape on one of the windows with a finger. I freeze a thin but sharp knife of ice and cut through the glass so we can swim through.

Pots and chopsticks and bowls float eerily in the water. I push past a hovering chair wishing Aang was a firebender already so he could have given us some fire to bring down here. Jet swims to a closed closet door and knocks.

A sharp rap answers back.

He twists around and waves me over. I swim to the door and mold our two bubbles of air into a single open area of air that makes a semicircle against the door. "Zuko, Sokka—are you in there?" I shout, pressing my ear to the wood.

"Katara," Zuko whispers back, his voice so low I can barely hear make it out.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Your brother's unconscious."

"Are _you _okay?"

"Fine," he says, too quickly.

"Good. Listen, Jet's here with me. We're going to open the door and get you out—"

"_No._ No, Katara, don't do that."

Jet and I exchange glances. "Zuko, the whole ship's underwater. Thank goodness you've still got some air in there, but you'll drown if we don't get you out."

"Yeah, you should be glad we came back here to get you at all," Jet adds unhelpfully, earning a sharp glare. "And if you're fine, why didn't you just swim out to begin with?"

Zuko's silence is answer enough, and I know exactly why. If he got to Sokka just as the kitchen started to flood, he would have dragged my brother to the only safe place he could see away from the icy water and colder memories—a janitorial closet whose crevices I dive lower to see are stuffed with blankets. He'd probably hoped help would come, but as the kitchen filled up higher the only remaining choice became to sit tight since you can't open a door with water pressure pushing against it unless the whole door is covered with water. But fear is a black place, the one thing even brave Zuko can't seem to overpower. With nothing beyond the door but dark water, he'd chosen to go on waiting.

"I know the water's cold out here, but you either it's either that or drowning," I tell him. "And Jet and I will keep you safe. I promise."

"Katara, you don't understand. I can't."

I hold up a hand to warn Jet not to speak. "_You_ can't? You've done much harder and more dangerous things. You survived for three years alone in exile. If you can do that, you can get through a little water."

"I wasn't alone. My uncle was with me."

"Well now I'm with you, got it? Now, Jet and I are going to pull open the door. He'll take Sokka, you'll go with me. Understand?"

There comes the longest silence from the other side. I wish I could see his face as he considers this, but in the end I hear a small sigh and _okay, do it_.

Here is what I will remember later: Jet wrenching the door open while I seal bubbles of air around my brother and Zuko's heads. The firebender lunging to grab me, his body shaking against mine. His arms around my waist. The two of us swimming higher through the translucent depths. Our eyes fixed skyward on the light and air far above us.

Here is all I think of in the moment: Zuko, who has entrusted me with his life.

My head breaks the surface and cold, clear air stings my wet face. The firebender keeps a tight grip on my shoulders and we start the swim towards the distant shore, though I help speed the trip by propelling us forward on a wave. Aang and the freedom fighters meet us by the bank to help pull my still-unconscious brother through the shallow water. The moment she senses Sokka's on land, Toph pushes us all aside and sits down beside him. She brushes wet hair out of his face.

"Is he going to be okay?"

I splay my hands across my brother's chest and sense for injuries. "Yeah, once he wakes up. He's completely fine. Probably just took a small hit to the head."

My next concern is Zuko, who is shivering something awful by the shoreline. "You okay?" I ask, kneeling beside him. He nods slowly, and I offer him a shoulder to lean against. We stand up slowly as he braces his body against mine. He offers me a small smile and seems like he's about to speak.

My back is turned to the water when I hear the surface breaking and a familiar shrill shriek. Zuko's eyes widen, and I almost feel a pressure wave of air as something very large comes at me very quickly from behind. The firebender pushes me aside, knocking me into the ground. I turn over on my back to see the creature close its jaws around a completely unprepared Zuko's chest.

A bite intended for me.

No emotion passes across me but for a single, sudden ember that sparks down inside my stomach. The fire burns higher and hotter, lifting up my arms and channeling water in a thousand shining dagger-like pieces at the serpent's head, scarred from Jet's earlier hook sword strikes. The scream inside the firebender's lungs hasn't even ripped free by the time the ice cuts across the serpent's neck, its eyes, its snout. The creature drops its prey with a hiss. I catch Zuko on a wave of water as he falls and lower him gently to the shore as Aang takes off after the serpent. He circles it at a great speed, stirring up a whirlpool that holds it helpless. I drop to my knees by Zuko's side. He convulses as I rip his shirt off to get clear access to the bleeding row of punctures across his chest and back. Though he's too proud to show more than what is pain beyond containment, I know there is white-hot agony spreading slowly from the wounds. Hot blood pulses out from the many incisions, blood I try to stem with water and my healing touch.

Cheers rise from behind me, which I suppose must mean Aang's beaten the serpent into submission at last. But I don't turn around to see for myself, keeping my eyes only on Zuko and the deeper injuries my bending warns me lie beneath the openly bleeding wounds.

"Thank you," Zuko whispers weakly.

"Thank _me_? You saved my life."

"I meant for everything else."

"How about you tell me that when I've earned it," I say, fighting to keep water from leaking into my eyes.

Running footsteps alert me to a gathering crowd, and I glance up for just a moment to see Aang and Jet with his freedom fighters and even Toph carrying Sokka on a slab of stone that she sets down close by.

"How is he?" the airbender asks, kneeling down beside me.

Toph's hand finds my shoulder. "Is he going to be okay?"

At first I tell my friends _this doesn't look good_ because it's the part that comes most easily to my tongue, a simple echo of the truth that my hands feel humming through Zuko's blood and body. Then something else rises to my lips, a second thought I try to force back down my throat because I already know what will happen when I speak it. But my brain and mouth don't seem to hold a conference before it slips out into the open for my friends to hear, the one small sentence that amounts to _but I think I can save him._

Aang nods grimly and Jet steps forward to stand among his freedom fighters, the three of them clustered together to draw strength from one another as only friends can. They wait for my healing touch to pass across over the blood pulsing from Zuko's open wounds, and it's only Toph who gasps as she steps back shaking her head. The packet of sound that rips from her throat begs me to take back my words, which were accompanied by a peculiar physical reaction she could easily detect. Even now she can sense my breathing and heartbeat and probably the very hot water building behind my eyes, the tears I try to hold back so my other friends don't yet know the thing Toph knows I know. I turn back to Zuko, whose breathing is slower than before. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth a thin and twisted line. Again I ease cooling water over the places where the serpent pierced his chest and back, but all I'm doing is buying maybe minutes of time as inside my heart breaks open.

My hands tell me there is more internal injury done here than even my healing can mend. And Zuko seems to know it, too.

He pushes up on his elbows despite my pleas to stay down, sitting up when I try to push him back. A gasp of blind agony breaks from him, the only possible vocalization of pain beyond pain of the kind he's probably never felt in all his life. He slumps forward against me, barely managing to prop himself up with both of his hands on my shoulders. Aang and Toph help brace him in a sitting position, both of their eyes filling with water as they realize there's nothing that can be done.

I don't look at the blood still coming down his bare chest, stomach, across his pants.

I don't look at his clenched fists and the fingernails probably digging more blood out of his palms.

I look at his eyes, his wide and smiling and forgiving eyes despite the knowledge that I won't be able to save him.

"You did great," he tells me.

"Zuko, you need to lie down. You're making it worse," I say, every word fracturing my heart deeper and deeper.

The smile from his eyes now matches the one on his lips. "Come here," he says, opening up his arms as an invitation.

I throw myself into his hug and now there's no restraint to the boundless grief I sob into his neck. I press so close that I feel his heart like a throbbing pressure against my chest. Whatever thin walls of ice I'd tried to build up around my heart break to pieces as I wet his skin with my crying. I feel his warm breath on my neck, his hands rubbing my back in a gesture of comfort as if I'm the one who's hurting. It's in this moment that I discover the one thing more beautiful than Aang holding me: Zuko holding me.

But as his lifeblood trickles out from internal injuries I can't heal, I realize it's a thing I've discovered too late.

_A/N: If this chapter doesn't deserve a little love in the form of feedback, I don't know what it'll take for you guys to enjoy this story. You can probably tell I've been waiting to write the second-to-last paragraph for a while. Hope it sounded as good to you as it did to me._


	20. Some Say in Ice: 9

_A/N: The feedback response to the previous chapter was literally overwhelming and beyond my most hopeful dreams, and for that I thank you greatly. I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter posted, but I have in the past ten days written twenty-three essays (a total of ~15,000 words) for medical school secondary applications. It's been busy. The final installment of this arc, "Some Say in Ice: 10," will again be a far more action-packed chapter, but I feel like this emotional one is important. As a reminder, my profile page contains daily updates on my progress._

Zuko's gritted teeth and sudden gasp remind me that our hug comes with a physical pressure and pain on his puncture wounds, but when I try to lean back he just pulls me closer. He holds on tight despite my protests as if I'm the one thing left grounding him to the world. His blood is on my clothes where we press together, but when I realize he won't let go no matter what I say I cling as tightly as he does. I hold on as if everything I have is about to slip from my hands—and maybe that's not so far from the truth at the heart of all things.

"Katara," he says weakly, finally leaning away so there's a small space of air between us. "I need you to do one thing for me."

"Anything," I tell him, and I mean it.

What he might have said: _Find my uncle and keep him safe, bringing a message to my father when you face him, take care of yourself and your friends, don't forget me, don't forget what I did to save you. _

What he does say: "Don't stay here."

"No." I shake my head. "You can't ask for that."

"Aang," he says, glancing at the airbender. "You need to get these people safely to Ba Sing Se. Go right now before the sun gets too high."

"No, this is ridiculous!" I yell, not wanting to leave the firebender's side for anything. "I'm not going anywhere!"

A very small and warm hand closes around my fingers. "We need to go," Aang says, his voice breaking on the words.

But my legs have given up. I can't even move to stand. "No. I'm not leaving."

His hand comes to the curve of my face. "Please go," he whispers.

Aang's hand pulls me up, and at Zuko's slight nod I respond to the pressure. I glance back once to see Toph gently lowering him back down to the ground. The gathered sea of people parts to let us pass. Their eyes are probably on my face as they stare at the waterbender who thought she was such a master at her work, but really it's only very distantly that I know they're looking. Faces swim only vaguely in the periphery of my vision. Mostly I'm walking blindly through the whispering crowd whose words are incomprehensible.

We come to the edge of the shore where only a few people are scattered. Aang guides me farther down the line where water meets earth. I gaze at out a different line as we walk, the one where water meets air and fire at the distant sunrise horizon. Far off, the fading glow of that rising sun ripples across the water. The faint red tinges are like drops of blood in the waves.

I stop and feel the tug of Aang's hand again, but this time I don't go on. My hand moves to my mother's necklace at my throat. I think of how fire took her away and how water took Zuko in turn. Probably there is a cycle of fire and ice in the world that I'm only now beginning to discover, these two forces that can never be together because in the end where one exists the other can never be at once. In failing to realize this before, I've killed Zuko. Me, and no one else.

"I did this," I confess to the sun and the sea.

"You did everything you could," Aang reassures me.

"He took the bite for me."

"But that wasn't your choice."

"I should have trained better in the north," I say, glaring down accusingly at my own betraying hands.

"Katara, please listen. I know you're upset." He encloses both of my hands in a cage of his fingers. "But do you remember when I convinced myself I was responsible for everything that happened to my people? You're the one who reminded me things happen for a reason. You said the world needs me now because I give people hope."

"But there wasn't anything you could've done—"

"And there's nothing you could've done differently, either," he says, his warm gray eyes meeting mine. "You did everything you could, and right now you're still doing it. And the world needs you to be strong. Katara, _I _need you to be strong."

His words come across me with little meaning. All I can think back to is another time when I could have done things differently. I didn't run fast enough. I wasn't strong enough to fight the fire nation soldier in our house. I couldn't save my mother from fire, but here is the one thing I do suddenly know: Water is my own element. I couldn't touch fire, but water is something else altogether. And where there is life, there is still hope.

"And Zuko needs me," I say, turning back to face the far-off crowd. The shining water in the morning light casts a golden glow across all of us. "And while I can, I'm not turning my back on someone who needs me. Not while there's a chance of saving him."

"Katara—"

"I need you to help me," I tell him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back towards the gathered passengers. "We might not be that far from a village. We can find better healers there." We pause at the edge of the crowd. "Fly up and look around. You'll see something faster from the air."

He steps forward to give me a quick embrace. Stepping back, he snaps open his glider. "If there's anything out there, I promise I'll find it." I stand back a few paces as he crouches and hurtles into the sky. Then I force a path through the thicket of people to the opening at its center.

When I squeeze through two final passengers, I see Toph sitting silently between my brother and Zuko. My brother, who is still unconscious, though another check on his vital signs tells me he should be okay unlike Zuko, who is still bleeding. I'm reminded of the one time I caught the firebender sitting on by a creek while eating a fish, looking like a stone weathered over by years of grief and too tired to go anywhere but right there by the water. That touch of sorrow has passed over Toph, too, and it this expression of pain that has left her holding one of Sokka's hands and one of Zuko's. Linked together in this way, they are bound by an unbreakable chain of loss.

"Katara," Jet says, the first to notice I'm back from his place with his friends at the edge of the clearing. "What are you doing back here?"

Toph turns her head to face me, probably wondering if I've brought some miracle news.

"What?" Zuko groans, tilting up his head to look at me. "No, Katara . . . you need to go."

I kneel next to him and again ease healing water over his wounds to at least temporarily stem the external bleeding. "We weren't on the same side in the beginning, but we started this journey together. And that's how we're going to end it: together. I'm not leaving because I'm going to figure something out. I promise."

"Katara! I found something."

"You're back fast," I say as Aang swoops into view and lands beside us. "What is it?"

"There's a huge wall really close to here! I think that's the external wall to Ba Sing Se, and there are guards up there."

"And probably healers!" I realize. "Come on, we have to—"

"But there's not just the wall. There's a big . . . thing out there. A giant Fire Nation drill. And I think the wall's going to be in trouble if we don't do something to help."

There are times in life when I wonder if the spirits are holding some deep-seated grudge against me. Right now is one of them.

"I knew they'd be responsible for some problem," Jet says. "So I guessed wrong about the ship. See, I wasn't too wrong."

"We'll figure out what to do when we get there," I say. "Toph, make an earth platform. We'll get these two safely to the wall that way."

"Glad to finally be useful," she says, lifting up my brother and Zuko on a single bed of rock.

"Be gentle with them," I warn her. "And give me a boost up." A short pillar of stone rises under my feet, enough to give me a view above the crowd. "Everyone, we're almost to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se!" I shout. "Follow us and we'll get you there!"

I stay beside Zuko the whole way there, keeping water over his wounds as before. Though Toph does her best to keep the platform level, he groans at even the slightest jostle. Beside him, my brother has yet to stir. He's been out longer than I thought he'd be, but I'll worry about that when we're at the wall. Running through a narrow passage of rock and some shrubbery, we come out at last by a sheer vertical face of stone. "I'll have to make a few trips to get all of us up there," Toph says, laying a hand on the rock to get a feel for its height.

A balding man in the crowd steps forward. "I'm an earthbender," he says. "I'll take a group up."

"Me, too," says a woman.

"Okay. Break into four teams," I tell the passengers. "Three trips should be enough to get all of us up there."

Toph molds the platform of earth into the ground. I cluster in together with her, Zuko, Sokka, and Jet's team. Aang takes and the other two earthbenders each take their own group and bend rock platforms up the face of the wall. Zuko's eyes are closed now, his breathing too shallow. My fingers close around his. "Someone up there will help you," I say, though I know my words fall on deaf ears.

"Where's this drill?" Jet asks.

"There," Smellerbee says, the first to spot the massive machine flanked by tanks.

Jet snorts. "That? Ha, no big deal. We'll take it. What do you think?" he asks, glancing at Longshot. The silent Freedom Fighter shoots him a meaningful look. "Yeah, they'd better watch out for us."

The moment the platform reaches the top, I leap off the edge and run across the wall with my arms waving. "Hey!" I shout at the nearest patrolling guard. "Please, we need—ah!"

A funnel of earth rises to wrap me up. The rock seals across my face, my eyes, and drowns me in soundless darkness. _Brilliant_, I tell myself as the cage crashes hard to the ground. Running and screaming at a guard was obviously the best way to get help. "Let me out!" I yell, but probably no one's listening.

Suddenly the rock peels away, depositing me on the wall. Aang leans down to make sure I'm okay. "I'm the Avatar," he tells the guard. "Take me to whoever's in charge. Get some healers."

The guard takes a stunned step backward, looking between the bald kid with the blue arrow and the dozens of people crowded behind him. "Uh . . . give me a minute," he stutters, signaling to some other guards now running up behind him. They whisper quickly about something. "Who's hurt?" he asks.

I run to Zuko's side. "Look," I say, hovering a hand over his chest wounds.

The guard nods. "I'll take him to the infirmary. Avatar"—his eyebrows lift up, his voice letting me know he doesn't fully believe us—"I'll take you to our general. He'll decide what to do with all of you."

I grab one of Zuko's hands and one of Sokka's, just as Toph did earlier. "I'm coming with them."

He shrugs. "As you wish."

An earthbender guard makes a fresh earth platform. I wish Aang luck and run after my friend and brother, though I glance back when footsteps follow. "What are you doing?" I yell.

"We started this journey together and that's how we're going to end it," Jet mocks, catching up to me. "You've been waiting to use that, haven't you?"

I blush. "If you're coming, shut up about that."

His lips grin around the signature prairie grass. "Whatever you say."

The guard takes us to an enclosed infirmary at the top of the outer wall. He rests Sokka and Zuko down on separate futons and calls a woman in pale brown robes over. I check on my brother while she brings over a tray of supplies. Heartbeat, fine. Breathing, normal. I glance back when the woman leans low over the firebender. By now he's so near loss of consciousness from blood loss that he probably can't even register her presence.

"Is there anything you can do?" I beg.

She inspects the wounds. "How did this happen?"

I kneel on the other side of the futon. "We were attacked in the Serpent's Pass. The serpent bit him."

Her brows furrow and her eyes close. She stands up to go. "He's probably sustained internal injuries. A very skilled waterbender might be able to help, but we have none of those around here. I'm sorry."

_I'm sorry, _two simple and innocent words, kill me more than any blast of fire, any boulder of earth, any force in the entire world ever could. A scream comes up inside me, but it never leaves because I've already turned the anger inwards on myself. "I'm sorry," I say out loud, tasting those words. "I'm sorry," I cry, bowing my forehead to rest on the edge of the futon. My hand grabs for Zuko's and holds it tight, but he's too far gone to sense it. All the pain I'd briefly shut away with the small hope of getting help is back again. Jet says something, but the only comprehensible thing is my inescapable grief. My free hand returns to my mother's necklace. "_I'm sorry_," I tell her because somehow failing Zuko is like failing her all over again. Tears are still coming down my face when my fingers touch something else I've been keeping around my neck.

I remove the cord holding the small vial and hold it in my open palm. A thing I'd forgotten entirely.

"What's that?" Jet asks.

But I'm already uncorking the top and bending out a very small and shining ring of water into my hand. "Sit him upright," I order, splitting the water into two halves. Jet balances Zuko in a sitting position as I soothe the special water of the Spirit Oasis over the row of punctures on the firebender's chest and back. The glowing liquid seeps into the wounds.

"Lay him down," I say. I climb up on the futon beside him, shaking his shoulders gently. "Zuko?" I whisper.

It takes a few moments, but at last the firebender grimaces and relaxes. He opens his eyes. "Katara?"

"Shh," I tell him. "Everything's going to be okay."

He closes his eyes again. "Am I allowed to thank you now?"

I nod, then realize he couldn't see it. "You can," I say, tearing up.

"Thank you," he whispers.

I wave the woman back over. "He needs lots of water. He's lost a lot of blood. And check often on my brother." I run my hand over Sokka's. "He should be up soon." He should.

Her eyes are wide with wonder as she runs her hands over the sealed chest wound. "I'll take care of them," she says. "And you'll have to tell me what you did to him later."

Zuko slips back into a dazed sleep. I don't move from my place on the futon, though I do glance over at my brother. He's breathing fine, though I really don't like that he's been out this long.

"You have feelings for him, don't you?" Jet asks suddenly, nodding at Zuko.

This gets my attention. "What? No, I don't like him."

"_Like_ him? Nah, I never accused you of _that_," he says with a smirk. He pulls the prairie grass out of his mouth and twirls it in his fingers. "Not nearly strong enough."

What I'd really like is to send him off with a few choice words, but two things hold me back. For one, his smirk softens into a genuine smile as he says the second half. He's looking at me with a secret knowledge in his eyes, the gaze that says _guess what, I've been running around with you two for the past day and don't think I'm blind to the obvious. _But besides that, with the ice cracked away from my heart and the little ember kindled again in my chest, if you peel away the layers and layers of denial and fear and guilt and shame and come down to the very core of that spark inside me—maybe, given time, Jet won't be so wrong.

We stay there for the longest few minutes of my life, my former enemies and me, and I wonder at the strangeness of a world that could bring us three together in this way. How with barely any words, with only actions and looks and smiles and the healing touch of time that soothes over almost every wound, I could have changed my mind in so great a way about them both. My fingers move through Zuko's hair, but my memories move across so much more. They pass through us carrying Iroh to the water, to him thanking me by the creek, to frying some fish I caught for lunch together, to him pinning me under his swords and cutting away some of my pride, to the library and how I ran despite Wan Shi Tong's threats to save him, to the desert and how he ran despite the Avatar State to save Aang, to the sword lessons and the secrets we'd shared over them, to the kiss with Jia and how I'd hated her for taking his first, to our evening talk on the _Titan _about my emotions and how I let them get out of control, to our however brief dance and the truth about me actually enjoying it, to me helping him get through the cold water, to him saving me from the serpent, to him still saving me right now in this moment by just lying here next to me and filling this room with his presence. I place my hand over his chest to check on the healed wounds again, but really I'm placing my hand over his heart as he has unknowingly placed his hand over mine.

"We'll see," I tell Jet, and now we are both smiling.

His grin fades quickly, though, as he looks at Zuko again. "When this is over, I need to ask you something. About him."

I nod. "When it's over. But right now, you and I have a drill to help take care of."

He gets up and offers me a hand. "Let's get to it."

_A/N: Many of you asked some variation of the following question in your review for the previous chapter: "Is Zuko going to die?" But although this is a good question, perhaps it wasn't the right question. Allow me to explain why. The solution of Spirit Water is something many of you also hit upon—so congratulations, Katara. You have now saved Zuko's life. However, isn't there something we as viewers of the show know that our lovely waterbender doesn't? Ah, yes. That's right. The Spirit Water is vital later on in the show, isn't it? Hmm. Perhaps the real question, then, was never about Zuko's survival prospects or Katara's miracle solution. What if the right question is this: Now that the little vial is all used up, what will happen when we reach a certain crossroads of destiny in "From What I've Tasted of Desire: 10?" _

_Do not underestimate my powers of pulling an unexpected twist (*evil grin*)._


	21. Some Say in Ice: 10

_A/N: Yes, I know this story is technically on hold until August 2012. However, here's your gift for Zutara Week 2012: the final installment of "Some Say in Ice." Here we get this story's version of "The Drill" (which does follow canon events closely), an accidental encounter between two characters with great repercussions, and the final aspect relating back to the titular stanza. We have seen ice as unfriendliness and reserve and even as cold water, but not yet as the simplest definition: water frozen solid. It's coming. It's all coming._

_Edit: Thank you to JackieStarSister for pointing out a canon-conflict that has now been revised._

We haven't even taken a step when there's shouting at the open doorway to the infirmary. Troops bustle in, some limping and a few straight carried on the backs of their comrades. The injured find empty futons to rest on while their fellow men step back to make way for my friends and a man dressed differently from the others. He nervously tugs on the thin points of his beard, narrow and straight as chopsticks pinned to his face.

"What happened?" I ask, running over.

"This is General Sung," Aang explains, gesturing at the chopstick-bearded man. "He sent his Terra Team earthbenders to fight off the drill, but—"

"Two girls ambushed us," one of the soldiers moans from a futon. "One of them hit me with a bunch of quick jabs, and suddenly I couldn't earthbend."

"Yeah. I could barely move," another adds.

The first nods. "And then she just cartwheeled away."

I flashback to a certain pink-clad braided girl who is more acrobatic performer than typical fighter—one whose unique style lets her attack the pressure points in the human body. Just to confirm, I kneel by one of the futons and spread healing energy over one of the soldier's arms. I sense for injury. I sense for broken pathways.

"His Chi is blocked," I say, dissipating the energy. "And Ty Lee's the one who did it."

It occurs to me that if my brother was up and around, he'd probably take the opportunity to giggle at how a bunch of soldiers had gotten taken down by two girls—although, those same girls had already proven a challenge twice in our past. I look at Sokka again and how he lies there peacefully, breathing like he's asleep. _Focus on what you can help_, I instruct myself. _Focus on these men and the drill._

But inside, a dark dread is growing.

"Then we _are_ doomed!" General Sung yells suddenly. "If my finest platoon of elite earthbenders can't stop that machine, there is nothing we can do."

"Hmm," Jet says, chewing thoughtfully on his prairie grass. He wanders to a window of the infirmary and gazes down at the drill.

Aang and I walk over to join him. "What is it?" I ask.

"There are two kinds of people in world," he says with exaggerated slowness. "There are those who find excuses, like that general guy over then. And then there's us. We're the people that find a way." He pulls out the grass and twirls it between his fingers. "And I think I've got a way."

I blink. "You're sure you're Jet?" I ask, not sure if maybe Zuko's uncle decided to play his own game of dress-up.

He grins. "Did that sound smart? Good, I've been waiting to use that. Anyway, I've heard of chi blocking. That's when you take your opponent down from the inside by using his own weak point against him. That's how we can take down that drill."

"From the inside . . ." I echo, but Aang gets it first.

"We can hit its pressure points from the inside!" he says.

Jet proudly sticks the grass back between his teeth while the airbender runs back over to the gathered crowd of soldiers and our friends to explain the plan. I lean against the window ledge looking out, listening and watching all at once. All this reminds me of what Gran Gran once told me about water and why it's possibly the most powerful element in its perfect nonresistance. The drill is so immoveable, so hard and strong. But the one thing more powerful than rigid control is adaptation, a malleable force that knows true power doesn't lie in being strong but instead in the right use of strength.

The Fire Nation is about to get a taste of her words exactly.

"Before we go anywhere, I gotta get out of these women's clothes," Jet says, fingering a tear in his dress. "I know I pass for the prettiest lady in the room, but I've done enough running around like this. Prettiest except for you, Smellerbee," he adds quickly at a glance from Longshot.

Toph grins. "I think I've got a great plan for getting us to that drill," she announces. We all gather to hear her idea while the woman in pale brown robes brings fresh clothes for the Freedom Fighters and ushers them off to a separate room to change. Before we go, I squeeze Sokka's hand and lay my fingers on Zuko's arm. He's asleep and doesn't stir, though his mouth is smiling. Whether it's because of a dream or my touch, I guess I'll wait to find out.

"Hey." The small voice at my shoulder belongs to Toph. She sits down on the edge of Sokka's futon and folds her hands in her lap.

"Hey," I say gently. "Don't worry, he'll be okay. Maybe he'll even be up by the time we're back."

Her hands are shaking and of course it's because she knows my words are only a half-truth. Part of me doesn't even want to leave here until my brother's really okay, but what if I'm the difference between stopping the drill and letting it turn this city into Na Sing Se? There is so much truth to the idea that destiny in hinged on choices and any one can change everything. But there is also truth to this: the one way to live is to decide on something and walk looking forward without looking back over and over at all the crossroads of life you can't change once you've gone through.

I sigh. "We'll be back soon," I tell Sokka, hoping nothing will happen while I'm gone. Then I take Toph's hand and lead her off, a little surprised that she'd accept this hand-holding gesture without any resistance at all. But then there's something about worry that quietly moves people together.

I stop suddenly. There's another possibility. "Hey, maybe you should stay here and look out for my brother and Zuko. Aang's an earthbender. He'll throw up cloud cover and get us to the drill. It'll be good practice for him."

She glances back at Sokka. "You think so?"

"I know so." I let her hand go and she walks back over to the futons, sitting down again on the edge of my brother's mat.

"Aww. Look at that," Aang says, coming over. He smiles at the sight of Toph laying her hand down on Sokka's.

"Come on," I say, steering him away. "Are the Freedom Fighters coming to help us?"

Smellerbee falls into step beside me. "You bet. Since Ba Sing Se's going to be our new home, we'll fight for our city."

We troop out of the infirmary. Some of the passengers we rescued from the _Titan _gather on the wall to watch Aang earthbend us back to the ground far below. Momo croons softly from his shoulder. The lemur's ears twitch as we jump off the earth platform at the base of the wall. We are right in drill's path. Jet flicks away his prairie grass as he watches its spinning face draw ever closer. Longshot touches a feathered arrow but then looks to Smellerbee, who looks to me.

"Ready to go?" I ask Aang.

"Kind of," he admits. "I wish Toph was the one doing this instead of me. None of us have seismic sense. How are we going to see?"

"It's not a far run, and we'll stay together. We'll make it."

He nods. "Thanks, Katara. Okay, I guess I'm ready."

"Good. I'm getting bored over here," Jet says helpfully.

Aang sends a blast of dust and stone in a torrent towards the drill. "Run!" he calls, plunging into the swirling cloud. We follow close behind, dust sticking to my arms and hair and lungs. He sweeps up more dust for better cover, but a fresh current of thick air sending Jet into a coughing fit. I grab him by the arm and drag him onwards until we reach clean and open air. Jet stops for a breath, but there's barely time to spare. We're near the front of the drill, cloaked only by its shadow.

Aang bends open a shallow pit. "Get inside."

We jump down and duck as the ground seals shut above us. We're all breathing into the darkness now as the earth trembles around us under the weight of the drill. It's about a minute before the ceiling opens us and Aang climbs out with the rest of us following. We're under the drill now, its body our new ceiling. Its long rows of wheels frame the walls of our enclosure.

Longshot points. "Good eyes," Jet says, following his arm. "There's an opening up there."

"I've got it," Aang says, leaping up to grab hold of a horizontal length of pipe hanging out of the opening. "Come on up!"

I'm first to jump and grab on to his arms, helping him pull me up into the opening. The trio of Freedom Fighters follows close behind. Then we're moving through a maze of pipes and valves, all lit faintly by a red glow.

"Uh . . . this way!" Jet says. He pretends to purposefully lead the way, but really he's as lost as any of us.

"Wait, wait," I say, stopping amid the pipes. "We can't just go running around. We need a systematic approach. A specific plan of action."

Longshot looks at Smellerbee. "Hmm," she says, nodding slowly. "Maybe that'll work. Hey, Jet. Listen to this."

The silent Freedom Fighter turns his gaze on Jet. "Ha! Good point," their leader says, drawing his hook swords. "Now that's a game plan."

"What plan? What are you talking about? No one said anything!" I complain.

Aang tugs my sleeve. "I think they've learned to speak with body language gestures. It's probably helpful if you're trying to sneak around and stay quiet." He waggles his fingers mysteriously. "Or maybe they read minds."

"Uh . . . Jet?" I ask uncertainly as he draws a hook sword. "What's this plan of yours, exactly?"

He chops off a steam valve with a single sharp swipe. Aang gasps as steam fills the room. "What are you doing? Someone probably heard us!"

Jet grins. "Yeah, some engineers heard and now they're coming down to fix things. We're going to get the schematics delivered right to us and can search them for a weakness. Shh." He holds up a hand, listening. "Get back, someone's coming."

We step away as a man's form approaches through the steam. One hand holds a wrench, the other . . .

"We need that document, right?" I say. "I'm on it." I sneak ahead through the steam, circling around the engineer and coming up behind him. The moist air responds to my outstretched hands, condensing into an icy shell that freezes him in place.

"Thank you kindly," Jet says, snatching the plans with his usual smirk. He runs off and we follow close behind, scaling some metal stairs and stopping when we're alone again to unroll the document across a pipe.

"Anyone know how to read schematics?" I ask.

Jet strokes his chin. "Hmm," he says, a word which in this case means _nope, not a clue_.

Longshot traces a circle on document with his finger. The other two Freedom Fighters lean in close while Aang and I stare blankly.

Smellerbee nods. "Interesting."

"Yeah, that could work," Jet says.

The airbender taps me on the shoulder. "My vote is with mind reading," he whispers. Momo flicks his ears in agreement.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Jet says, comfortable in his usual bossy role as leader. "This drill seems to be made of two main structures. We're in the inner mechanism right now, but there's also the outer shell. The two parts are connected by braces. Know what happens if we cut through them?"

Aang's face lights up with a grin. "The whole thing will collapse!"

"You got it. Let's get to it."

We run through a series of halls and up steps and between pipes, searching for any kind of doorway or open space that will bring us to these braces. Though the drill is a slow-moving metal monster, we still don't have as much time as I'd like. Besides, how much longer before the ice melts off that engineer and he runs off to tell whoever is in charge that there are intruders on the drill—

Wait. It's not just _whoever _who's in charge. If Ty Lee attacked that Terra Team and there was another girl with her, it was probably the knife-thrower. And if both girls were here, Zuko's sister must not be far behind. How interesting that two siblings could be so close in physical space but still so far divided, one fighting with and the other against the Avatar. I couldn't imagine having to fight my brother, not for anything. I'm sure glad Zuko didn't come along so he doesn't have to fight his sister either if we end up caught.

"I think that's what we're looking for!" Aang says, pointing ahead at a doorway leading into a wide and open space.

We run out onto a massive steel beam. There's a brace right ahead of us, only it's not exactly the thin line drawn into the schematics.

"Looks like we're going to have quite a job on our hands cutting through that," Jet admits.

"_We?_ You mean you're going to help with your amazing mind powers?" I grumble.

"Eh . . . or you and Aang can handle it. A couple of waterbending slices should do the trick. Go, go. Get to it."

I bend water out of my flask and resist the tempting urge to splash the grin off Jet's face. Instead I send the slice of water against the edge of the vertical beam. On the other side, Aang catches it and bends it back towards me along the same path. We keep going like that, cutting back and forth and back and forth again as a gash wears slowly in the thick beam. But we're going too slowly to make a real difference. The Freedom Fighters keep exchanging glances, but not one of them is brave enough to risk unleashing my building frustration with a misplaced attempt at motivation. At the midway point Aang and I pause to bent over and gasp, exhausted, but we quickly resume because it's the only chance the city has. _The whole world's counting on us_, I tell myself. _And Sokka. And Toph. And Zuko. _

At last we cut fully through and the upper section of the beam grinds down the angled cut. But it only slides a few inches before shuddering to a halt.

"We're not going to do enough damage before the drill gets to the wall," I admit, panting again.

Aang sits down to rest. "We have to keep trying," he says, though both of us know we don't have many more slices of water left in us.

Suddenly there's a shudder and a groan passing through the machine. "Hey, I think we did it," Jet says. "Let's get out of here."

I'm grinning as we run for the doorway. Not so bad after all, I guess. But we've only just reached the entrance when a faint crackle comes across the overhead speaking tubes, followed by an unfamiliar voice.

"Congratulations, crew," it announces. "The drill has made contact with the wall of Ba Sing Se. Start the countdown to victory!"

"No." The word slips out of me unbidden, but it's a fair expression of the horror and anger and disbelief passing across all of us. With only one beam severed, there's no way to cut through all the others in time.

Aang shakes his head. "This is really bad."

"Two kinds of people," Jet reminds us. "Let's prove to the Fire Nation we're the _find a way _ones." He glances from the sliced beam to an intact one. "Hmm . . . okay, idea. Maybe we're putting too much effort into individual braces. Could you two split up and go twice as fast?"

"You know, we don't really have to cut all the way through," Aang says. "In my earthbending training, I've learned that you don't have to give all your energy to any one strike. I just have to weaken my opponent, break his stance, and his own body will become his downfall."

"So we just have to weaken the braces!" I realize.

"And I'll deliver the final blow from the top."

The water from my flask hovers between us. "Let's do it."

We slice back and forth, back and forth, inflicting cuts into one support beam and then another and another one again. "This one's good," I tell Aang as soon as we've cut a fairly deep way in, our cue to move it. The Freedom Fighters follow along from one beam to the other, but all of us are really wondering how much time we've got before we're caught sabotaging the drill—

"Watch out!" Jet yells suddenly, ducking down as a blast of blue fire sizzles above his head. Longshot pulls an arrow from his quiver and aims it at the three girls who've run out on a girder far above us.

Aang ducks lows and misses a second shot of fire. "Run!" he calls, as Ty Lee swings towards him from the girder. He knocks her back with a gust of air as Longshot sends an arrow for Azula. She leaps out of the way, but the momentary distraction is enough to get us safely to the doorway. Corridor, doorway, corridor, left turn, right turn, corridor down to a three-way junction. We come to a halt, looking left and right.

"Guys, get out of here. I'll take care of the drill."

Longshot and Smellerbee exchange glances. "We've got your back," she says, the two of them following Aang down one arm of the junction.

"I'll be your backup," Jet says, chasing after me.

"What? No, go with Aang!"

"I trust my Freedom Fighters to take care of him, and you shouldn't go alone."

We take a turn and run right into a dead end. "Oh, no," I groan.

"Hold on. That reads _slurry pipeline_," he says, pointing to a sign above a large hatch. "Slurry is just rock and water mixed together—and this pipe might lead to a way out!"

He opens up the hatch just as Ty Lee and her knife-throwing friend turn into the hall behind us. "Guess we'll find out!" I say. "Go, go!"

"Hurry up, I know. Zuko's waiting, right?" he teases, then notices the girls too. "Okay, okay, I'm going!"

I look back to Ty Lee grinning wickedly and her dark-haired friend narrowing her eyes just slightly. Jet plunges into the slurry and I follow close behind, leaping in just as a throwing knife clings against the open hatch. We ride the slurry until we're splashed out on the ground in a gray puddle at the rear of the drill.

"Ugh," I groan, wiping some ooze off my face. "Well, at least we're out."

"Katara, is that you? Need some help?"

"_Toph?_" I gasp as the earthbender comes running out from beneath the drill. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you guys were in trouble when the drill hit the wall. Don't worry, your brother's safe in the infirmary."

Just my brother? What about—

"Company," Jet says, pointing at the slurry pipe. Ty Lee's riding waist deep in the flow, still grinning wildly. I raise a hand to bend the slurry back and trap her in the pipe, but a second person appears in the flow behind her. The knife-thrower lives up to her nickname, sending a blade at my upraised hand. I duck, and this small distraction is just enough time for the two girls to land safely on the ground and jump out of the way of my bending. The dark-haired girl's eyes narrow as her gray-splashed hand closes around a fresh weapon. Her gaze falls across each of us in turn. She sighs as if expecting something else.

"That slurry is a mix of rock and water," Jet tells Toph while there's a pause for breath. "Try to bend it into that pipe. You might be able to plug the drain and mess up the drill big-time."

"Mudbending? I'm on it," she says.

"I'll take the acrobat," he says, running for Ty Lee.

I guess that leaves me with the knife-thrower again.

It's only me and her and the stretch of earth between us. She charges, several blades extended from her right hand. My feet find a waterbending stance as I draw water from my flask. Her hand moves and the blades come at me. I crystallize the water to a shield of ice and deflect the knives. The water coils into a whip at my slightest motion. I sling it forward but she leans back to avoid the strike. Her sleeve and hand are moving too quickly, another knife at the ready, and this time I can't block the blade she throws. It sinks into my arm, cutting down to blood and bone. I drop the water; it splashes at my feet. I grab the knife handle but know that ripping it out would only make the bleeding come harder. Past the pain radiating from my right arm, I can only think to throw up a curtain of the ice and water against the new weapon in her hand. She lifts the three-pointed device and unfolds it into a throwing star. I watch her run at me through the gloss of water between us. And I want to think. And I try to think. I freeze the water into a thousand tiny shards, all cutting pinpricks that would slice her skin to pieces. She stops, weapon raised, and we both know that the next to strike is the next to die. But my hand is shaking, the blood coming down my arm. Beneath her mask of calm and control she's really smiling because I've lost anyway. I've squeezed my eyes for just a moment, but I know she's smiling—

"Mai, stop!"

I expect the weapon to cut me through, but I open my eyes and see the throwing star hasn't left her hand. She's holding it very tightly, in fact, her head now turned to the person half-running, half-limping toward us. Her eyes are wide with recognition and awe and simple disbelief.

"_Zuko_," she says, and in that word I hear more than just the firebender's name. I hear the laughter of small children sitting under a tree with its blossom-laden bows drooping low. I hear nights of picking out patterns in the stars and feeding turtleducks in a pond and growing up together in the world. She slips the throwing star back inside her robe, but it might as well be a secret note two schoolmates exchanged while the professor was running off on some blabbering tangent. "Zuko?" she asks, this time a question, one that wants to know _are you the Zuko I knew before you were exiled? Do you still remember me? Do you know me? _

All she's said is one word that means his name, but in her eyes and in his face and in her small smile and in the softness of his gaze I know they're not strangers in the least.

"Zuko? Oh, hi!" Ty Lee sings out as she vaults over Jet a distance away. She stops to wave, and the distraction is just enough to let Toph trap her in a shell of earth. "Hey!" she yells. "Not fair!"

Mai ignores her friend's predicament. Her eyes are only for Zuko. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm with the Avatar now," he explains between pants for breath. For my part, I take the lull in the fighting as a chance to rip the knife out of my arm and ease healing water over the cut. My skin seals over, the bleeding stemmed.

"_With _the Avatar? You're his friend?"

"Uncle and I. We both are." He pauses, wincing at the pain probably shooting through his barely-healed chest and back. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asks, but suddenly rock swallows Mai up to the neck. "Toph, let her go!" he yells.

"Sorry, Sparky. Right now, she's the enemy."

I run to help Toph bend a ball of slurry deeper into the pipe. Jet watches the two trapped girls struggle against the earth holding them in place. Zuko doesn't try to free them, but he does stay close to Mai. They're saying something, but I can't hear from this far off.

"What is he doing here?" I whisper to Toph. "He should be resting. He was just dying an hour ago!"

She shrugs. "He wouldn't let me come down without him. He can be very convincing and said he was fine."

Of course, by this she really means he asked maybe once and how could she say no to any request of his? I sigh and glance over my shoulder. "Leave them alone and come here!" I call.

Jet grabs Zuko's arm, but he resists the urgent pull and instead looks back to Mai. He says something I finally hear: "Are you going to Ba Sing Se?"

She nods.

"I'll find a way to meet you there."

She sighs, her dark hair shining in the sun. "Your friends are waiting."

There is longing, there is worry, there is wonder in the look Zuko tears from her. He's tired, he's hurting, but he and Jet come running towards us. At least, a part of him comes along with Jet. I don't know how large of a fraction, but at least some piece stays behind with the dark-haired knife-thrower. I know this because he looks back twice, the sun shining off his eyes. There's hesitation in his steps and in his grimace and in his the sighing breath he lets out when he reaches us.

He'd told Jin _I have a girlfriend_ and then denied it to me later. But all of a sudden, I'm not so sure which was the lie and which the truth.

In the next moment I'm angry with myself for even thinking about that when there's a drill to deal with. I turn back to the slurry, channeling all my rage into forcing that ball back deeper and deeper into the pipe. We hold the slurry inside until we hear a chain of eruptions coming from front to rear. Plumes of gray ooze burst from the top of the drill, meaning Aang and the Freedom Fighters have clearly done their job.

"Get close!" Toph yells, lifting us both and Jet and Zuko on a pillar of rock. The force of the slurry pouring from the drain is enough to break the rock holding Mai and Ty Lee trapped. They're washed off in a rush of goo as Toph breaks off an earth platform and carries us back to the base of the wall where the others are already waiting.

"We beat them!" Aang shouts, grabbing me in a hug. We topple over laughing, slurry dripping off us both. "Longshot, Smellerbee"—he grins widely at them—"I owe you one for today. You too, Momo."

"See, I knew it from the start. Team Avatar and the Freedom Fighters make a good team after all," Jet says, smiling like he's won some long-standing argument.

Zuko says nothing. He's looking out at the broken drill, but the haze in his gaze lets me know his eyes are really on something more distant. Toph's face is turned the same way as his, like maybe she's trying to figure out what he's searching for.

I sigh. "Guess that's our official nickname if other people are using it. Team Avatar. Sokka will be excited to hear—" A shiver runs through me. "Let's get back to the infirmary."

We crowd together as the earth platform shudders. A current of air presses our clothes to our bodies as the ground drops away below us. We rise above the scattered remains of the drill and the gray ooze of slurry splashed across the dirt everywhere. The outer wall streams past us, its well-worn rock running down in a vertical wash of stone. It has stood here forever, will continue to stand here forever. We're speeding faster against the side of the wall. I feel the height pressing against my eardrums. The sun fills my eyes. Wind gusts my hair back. Far off, the line of earth cuts the sky. I look out at the horizon and keep looking until it's only the brown of the land and the blue of the sky and the gold of the sun and air filling the empty spaces between all of these forces.

The platform comes to a halt and we step off on the wall. I head right for the infirmary and my friends follow. The long room is nearly empty, all save for a few Terra Team fighters and my still-sleeping—

Not sleeping. Because at the sound of footsteps in the doorway, my brother tilts his head and waves us over.

"_Sokka_," I cry, jumping on him as if we'd been apart for years and not hours.

"Woah, woman! Good to see you, too," he says, trying to push me off.

I'm not letting go for anything. "I'm glad to see you're okay."

"Glad to be okay." He finally pushes me to one side and sits up on the futon, only to be knocked over again by Toph.

"Hey, Snoozles," she says, hugging him so tightly into his pillow that he's choking for breath.

By this time Zuko and the Freedom Fighters have joined us. The firebender sits on the nearest empty futon and rubs his chest, probably feeling the strain of newly-healed skin.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

Zuko shakes his head. "I'm fine. I'm glad we're all fine."

"I'll make sure we get you some food," I tell Sokka. "Can you stand?"

"Can I? I don't know. Toph, can I have my body back?"

She blushes fiercely and climbs off the futon. My brother grins and sits back up—but he doesn't get up. His face contorts in concentration as a black drop of fear plops into my stomach.

"Sokka?" I probe gently.

"Something's wrong with my legs," he says. "I can't feel anything."

The black drop dissolves into a cold solution that runs through my veins, through my body, through the shaking hand I lay on my brother's exposed lower back. If he was thrown against something on the _Titan_ and that thing was his spinal cord—

There. Right under my touch is a fresh swelling of tissue I didn't notice before, compressing the vertebrae below. And if my brother can't feel his legs . . .

"Sokka, I think you should get some rest. I'll bring you some food," I tell him, forcing my face to reveal nothing of the diagnosis to not worry him. "Guys, stay here. I'll be back."

Keeping my gait calm and controlled, I walk over to the woman in brown robes. She looks up from the Terra Team soldier she was attending. "I heard you saved our city from the Fire Nation. We owe you a great debt."

"I think we're about to get even. Do you keep stores of herbs and oils for healing purposes?"

She nods. "Is there a problem?"

"Can I see them? There's a special oil I need for my brother. And if you have anything meat-based around here, I think he's hungry."

She leads me down the aisle between two rows of futons and leaves me in a storage space in the back. I pick through shelves until I find a bottle labeled with a name Yagoda taught me in the north. By the time I return, Toph's feeding my brother some mushy-looking stuff.

"What's wrong with your arms?" I yell, hoping it's not worse than I thought.

"I'm a wounded warrior," he moans through exaggerated gasps. "I deserve some pampering." Clearly he hasn't grasped the seriousness of the situation. Or maybe he just thinks it'll wear off quickly.

Toph doesn't seem to mind his apparent helplessness much. "Shut up and eat," she says, poking a glob at his mouth.

He accepts the mouthful but then stares at the bottle in my hands. "Uh . . . seriously, little sis," he says. "I'm going to get my legs back, right? Like, in a few hours? Right?"

The others watch intently as I massage the oil into Sokka's lower back. "This stuff should help. Don't worry, you'll be okay soon," I tell him, making sure the earthbender's feet are safely off the ground. "I'll come back in a bit to rub some more on. You guys, uh . . . hey, dinner's here."

Now the woman is passing around vegetable stew for all of us. Everyone but me and Aang and Zuko takes a plate. When I stand up to go, they both stand with me. I move quickly past them and see Aang start to follow, but Zuko rests a hand on the airbender's shoulder to hold him back. Then I'm out of the infirmary, breathing in the calming air of early evening. My whole head's swimming by the time I reach the low stone wall meant to keep people from plunging over the sheer drop on the other side. I gather my arms in close and lean against the wall. I'm shaking, and the ground and the sky are shaking with me. With all the attention I'd given Zuko, I didn't catch the one critical hurt done to my brother earlier when more could have been done. A small sound breaks out of my throat, and as it fades I drop my head straight down on my arms. Now the tears are coming because out here in the dark I'm free to grieve openly for the horrible person I've been to my brother these past hours. I'm free to drop to my knees, crying, angry with myself for not staying here with him and doing more before when I could have—

I gasp as arms move around me in the gentlest embrace there is. _Look at me, _the warm pressure around my body says. _Turn and look and tell me what's the matter._

I sniffle to keep my nose from running along with my eyes. Wiping my cheeks, I turn to see Zuko on his knees holding me close like he'd held me after the serpent's bite. Despite all the loss he'd seen in his life, and I bet there's so much he has yet to tell me, the sun is still shining inside his eyes. Or maybe everything glows when your soul is breaking to pieces and someone is trying to keep you together.

"Uncle showed me that oil once and told me what it's for. Your brother's temporarily paralyzed because of swelling, isn't he?"

_Temporarily._ If only I could say with absolute knowledge this was in fact the case. But all I know as dust particles float around us in the edging darkness is my brother won't walk for some time.

"I'm sorry. At least it should get better with time and that oil. I guess we all lost something in the Serpent's Pass," he says.

"You didn't," I say, trying to steer the topic away from something I'm about to cry over. I lay my hand on his shirt where I know the chest wounds lie just below. "I'm glad I was waiting to use the water from the Spirit Oasis for something special. I . . . I still can't believe you're okay."

"I owe you my life. I'll remember that."

"You joined the team, didn't you? Debt repaid."

"No, I'm serious." He tilts my chin up so I'm looking at him. "I owe you. And one day, I'll pay you back."

A very insignificant thing occurs to me, but sometimes you just need to bring some useless thing into a heavy world to lift off the suffocating weight. "You know what I skipped this morning?"

"Sword practice." He's way ahead of me.

"Guess we'll start again tomorrow morning."

He looks off across the world beyond the wall. "We'll have to wait for the city."

"How come?"

"I told you we all lost something. I was trying to find all of you when I realized the ship was sinking, and in the panic I left my sheath back in my room. By the time I realized it, I was in the kitchen closet with Sokka. I couldn't leave him to go get it, so it's down there now with the ship. But it's not a big deal. When we get to Ba Sing Se, we'll make new swords. For me and for you."

I thought I'd cried myself out, but fresh water rises to my eyes because I know now, as always, that as long as this team is together we'll always find a way to go on. "First, I think I'd better tell my brother what's happened. I just wanted to come out here and figure out the best way to tell him. He won't take it well."

"Good. I'll go with you."

Zuko stands up, and when I stay put he reaches down. "Give me your hand," he says. A wash of dizziness comes over me. I get up with the feeling that I'm coming up too fast, but when I stumble he catches me in his arms. A feeling rises in my throat, but by the time it gets to my mouth it's nothing but breath and longing. Standing on the edge of the wall, we look over at the faint red line of sunset far off on the horizon. We look out at the world. We look out at the world together.

And in gazing out at the wide earth below us, I realize that Zuko's embrace is one of the safest places there is. Once long ago he was my enemy and I was afraid to turn my back on him for even a moment, but now I know we will never fight each other again.

We can't.

We're a team now and will help each other through any loss or challenge. We're Team Avatar, the one unbeatable force whose members will stand by one another and never betray each other for anything.

And I have no doubt it will always remain this way.

_A/N: Worried for Sokka? Loving Toph's growing bond with him? Excited about Katara getting her own swords? Wondering if the Freedom Fighters will stay with Team Avatar? Can't wait to see what happens when Mai and Zuko meet up? If you're pumped for part three, let me know with a comment below (or a favorite/follow)! Besides, for the longest chapter to date, hopefully there's something to say. :D Oh, oh—and one more thing. I got my first interview for medical school in September! Here's to hoping for good luck (*raises teacup*). _


	22. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 1

_A/N: **[Important: I made some MAJOR modifications to the end of the previous chapter (the part where Zuko and Katara have their conversation). Please go back and skim over that!] **My fellow Zutarians, for too long have we awaited the moment when platonic affection shifts to something greater. In the long span of this saga thus far, only a few hints of true desire have flickered through the veil of friendship. But in the next ten chapters, the content of which should be clear from a titular stanza that barely needs to be explained, our patience will at last be rewarded as we journey through Ba Sing Se and conclude with "The Crossroads of Destiny" and the choice that is made down in those crystal catacombs, a decision that will alter fate for all time. But before we reach that moment, a great deal of desire must be explored: Aang's desire for Katara, Katara's desire for Aang and Zuko, and Zuko's desire for . . . oh? Hmm, and what have we here? How curious. How very curious, indeed. _

_Also: _The Dark Knight Rises_ was literally unbelievable. Beautiful movie and totally worth seeing. Just bring earplugs, unlike me. Permanent hearing loss, anyone?_

Fox antelopes graze in the hills beyond the monorail tracks. Far past them, the inner wall of the capital draws nearer. It's a place I never thought we would reach in one piece with all the things that have come our way in the past few weeks. Surprising, really, how short of a time the new Team Avatar has been together and how even shorter of a time we've spent with the Freedom Fighters—but even more surprising how quickly we've come to be a cohesive unit that pulls one another through anything. If not for that, we probably wouldn't have made it this far.

If nothing else, I've learned this: it's a long road that leads to Ba Sing Se, and on such a road so much can change.

Our car, which is pushed along by earthbenders, shudders on the track. I'm gazing out through the window, but really I'm hoping some fresh misfortunate doesn't pitch our car off the narrow road. Or that one of those fox antelopes doesn't suddenly grow fifty feet and attack us like the serpent. Or that track itself doesn't buck, brought alive by its own strange energy, and fling us off into the plains and hills below.

Although with all the weird stuff that happens to us, I'm starting to think nothing will come as a shock.

Aang is asleep beside me on our seat, one also shared with Jet and Longshot and Smellerbee. The others are sitting right across from us with Momo snoozing on Toph's lap. The airbender's head rests on my shoulder. Small whispers of breath escape his lips in a soothing rhythm. My arm rests around Aang and pulls him closer. He's smiling as if having some good dream—maybe about the city, maybe about Appa, maybe about him and me. Jet watches this show of affection with amusement. He clears his throat on occasion and glances between me and Zuko. Zuko and me. Back and forth and back again until I want to rip the prairie grass from his mouth and stuff it other deserving places. But I know what he's getting at. With all the weird stuff that happens, _almost_ nothing will come as a shock.

Nothing, except maybe one small thing it's finally time for me to accept.

The firebender is directly across from me. He's gazing out the window and probably watching how the road comes straight for miles, coming right at us, and at the inner wall looming closer and closer. Or possibly he's looking out at the way-off place where the hills blur into light and the endless bounds of the blue horizon. He doesn't look at me, but I can't help but look at him. And watching his head tilted up as if a wind gust has lifted his chin, I feel like I'm on the teetering edge of a tremendous understanding.

At last I accept this simple truth as fact: _I like Zuko._

There.

Now I've _really_ admitted it.

And this time, unlike before, I'm not going to force the feeling away.

Aang makes a small noise and rolls his cheek against my shoulder. His hand moves and now our fingers are curled up together and touching. He yawns and opens his eyes, those gray eyes that find mine and in their welcoming warmth remind me of the one complication I can't shake off.

"Your arm didn't fall asleep under me, did it?" the airbender asks.

I grin. "You can keep napping. It'll hold out for another ten minutes."

He gazes out the window and closes his eyes with a sigh. "No, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

Something sharp hits my forehead. Then a pebble bounces across the floor, and it doesn't take a genius to piece the two together. "What was _that_ for?" I snap at Toph, whose face is turned to me with a blank expression.

"Huh? What was what?" she asks innocently.

I pick the pebble off the floor. "This."

"That was me, actually," Sokka says, flapping a hand in my face. "Oh, finally you're paying attention to me! I was about to grab Momo and throw him."

Well, that's just really nice. Fine, brother of mine, forget the fact that once I came back inside with Zuko I spent half the night rubbing oil on your back to help ease the swelling. Ignore the bit where I didn't get any sleep during the other half of the night either because I was worried for _you _and what's going to happen. It's not like I made you breakfast this morning with all your favorites. Obviously I haven't been paying one ounce of attention to you. Obviously.

But instead of saying any of that, I flick the pebble away and link my hands in my lap. "How do you feel?"

"Useless," he admits.

I can understand why. He's the meat and sarcasm guy, the strategist of the team who's always trying to prove he's a great warrior like our father. How, exactly, is he supposed to achieve any of that when he's bound to a wheelchair Toph constructed from rock? It was Aang who got the idea after remembering Teo, our friend from the Northern Air Temple. The earthbender was happy to follow through on the design work and even fashioned the wheels so they easily rolled.

Sokka throws up his arms. "I'm a broken cripple! How do you expect me to feel—ouch! Hey . . . oh, sorry."

Toph crosses her arms. "You better be. Your problem's temporary. Besides, you're not any less than what you were before. You're still the plan guy, and you can do that without your legs. I didn't see your brain get broken."

"You couldn't _see_ anyway—okay, okay, sorry!" Sokka yelps as she aims a punch for his head.

"Both of you, stop it," Zuko snaps. We all hush as he gazes out through the window again.

"Maybe you should. You've been in a bad mood since this morning," Jet points out. "We're all tired of that attitude."

The firebender's mouth tightens to a thin line. "Hopefully once we get to the city, you won't have to deal with me. I don't think the Earth King will appreciate a crowd of people bursting into his palace. You've helped us enough."

I don't know where all this sudden tension between them came from, but the Freedom Fighters helped save all of our lives. "They're welcome to stay with us as long as they'd like."

"We're fine on our own."

I stand up. "Zuko."

Jet tugs me by the sleeve into the seat beside him. He leans over so his mouth is at my ear. "Hey, it's fine. Your little lover's just too jealous to have me tagging along."

If that hadn't been in a dead-quiet whisper so the others couldn't hear, I would've thrown him into the aisle. "_Jet. _He is _not,_" I hiss back.

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

He stands and offers me a hand. I don't know what this is a better remind of, why I hated Jet for so long or why I had a crush on him back when we first met. "Fine. Guys, we'll be right back."

I don't accept his hand, but I do follow him down the length of the monorail car until we're out of earshot. Jet situates himself in another seat, but I don't sit beside him. "Come on," he insists.

"Just tell me what you want."

"Heh. It was just a joke."

"That _wasn't_ funny. We're not even in a relationship."

"Yet," he says, knowingly pointing an index finger.

"Why are we even discussing this?" I drop down on the seat and cross my arms and legs. "This is _none_ of your business."

He quirks an eyebrow. "You know, I'm not sure yet if it is or isn't. I've been meaning to ask you something about him for a while."

I rest my head back and try to invent a story about what Jet could possibly want to know about Zuko. Drawing a blank, I glance instead at the window just as we pass through the inner wall and into the city beyond. I gasp at the vastness of the many roads and buildings stretching out in all directions, at the wide and open view that is Ba Sing Se at last. I peer down the monorail car and see Aang leaning out the window. His shoulders are slumped, his hands tightly gripping the back of his seat. He's probably thinking about Appa again.

"We can talk later," I tell Jet. I get back up, but he grabs my arm to stop me. "What?" I grumble.

"Just one question, then you're free to go talk to your other lover boy."

"Quickly."

Jet slides up to the edge of his seat. "You call him . . . his name's Zuko, right?"

"Yeah. And?"

"I've heard of someone with that name before. I've been trying to place it for the past few days, and I think I've finally got it." His jaw tightens, and his back goes straight. "He's from the Fire Nation, isn't he?"

We're staring at each other across the very narrow space of an aisle, but it seems like there's a thousand miles between us. He's looking at me very carefully, his palms rested on his knees. He knows I know and that one of three things is about to come out: the truth or not truth or just simple silence. The last of those, though, is an answer in itself. Saying nothing sometimes says more than words can express because silence itself is speech.

Then it's really two choices: truth or not. I need to decide if it's okay to tell Jet who Zuko really is. A cold feeling grips me as I consider this, almost as if someone's just reached down and grabbed the dark space inside my stomach with a fist of ice. I think I already know what I'm going to say, but the word doesn't form in my throat, not just yet. It feels like someone is watching me. This someone looks down from way outside, gazing right through the monorail car and through my clothes and wrappings and skin, right down into the darkness inside me. Probably this _someone_ is a knowing spirit trying to guide me to the right answer since this moment is very important, one that might change everything. Truth is a dangerous thing whether told or concealed, and either way I'm closing one path the future could take and opening another. If only I knew which path led where, but as I don't know, I just have to take my best guess.

"Yes," I say, and that is that.

Jet doesn't blink. "He's the Fire Lord's son, isn't he?"

This time I say nothing, but like I said: silence is also an answer.

At first his face doesn't change expression. Then he nods and finally smiles. "I see. Thank you."

He stands up and follows me back down the aisle to where our friends are waiting. I sigh a breath of relief as we go. Jet must really be a changed man like he said to react so calmly to such news. Sure, he reacted a bit negatively in the Serpent's Pass when he thought Fire Nation ships attacked us, but that's different. Jet knows Zuko isn't the bad guy. Maybe seeing a good person come from a hated nation will even be the final step to turning his mind around. Like me, he needs to see that the inherent good in all people isn't affected by the circumstances of one's birth. It is what one does in life that determines destiny.

Aang looks at me as I sit back down. "How are we going to find Appa in such a big city?"

I lay my hand on his arm. "Don't worry. We won't stop looking until we do."

Sokka snorts. "He's a giant bison. Even in this place, where could someone possibly hide him?"

I watch homes and shops and roads and people flit past down below as a monorail station approaches. "My brother's right. We'll find him. I promise."

Toph sighs as the car glides to a stop. "Back in the city of walls and rules. Great."

We all shuffle out of the car with the Freedom Fighters leading and Team Avatar in the rear. Toph is last of all, and she gently earthbends Sokka's wheelchair down to the platform below. She's designated herself his personal caretaker, rubbing oil on his back every hour or so and making sure his chair is in proper working order. Really, I think it's just an excuse to get closer. That's a good thing. If there's anything my brother needs right now, it's someone like Toph to care for him.

"Well, this is where we see you guys off," Jet says. "We've escorted the Avatar to Ba Sing Se, but we've got our own destiny here."

"What? You mean you guys are leaving?" I ask.

"I know, you're going to miss me." He smirks around the prairie grass. "Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you _every _night. Besides, who knows? We might see you guys around."

I take a step forward. "Well . . . thanks. For everything." He nods, and as he does I take a few more steps and hug him around the neck. It's just a quick embrace, but it's the simplest way for me to express the most important truth: forgiveness. "I guess you weren't so bad," I say.

As he backs away, his narrowed eyes cut to Zuko—a glance that's not lost on me. "Yeah," Jet says. "Not so bad."

"Bye, we'll see you around!" Aang calls as Longshot and Smellerbee join their leader and they troop off across the platform. As they go, I get the feeling that we will be meeting again. I wonder what sort of circumstances will bring our two teams together.

"Hey, Katara?" Jet calls just before he disappears. "Last thing: remember those tourists? We didn't just steal. We left them money for their clothes. See, I'm telling you. We're the new leaf Freedom Fighters! So don't worry about us. We'll keep our noses clean." And then he's gone into the bustling crowd.

"Do you want to hear some truth? I don't know about you guys, but I'm glad we're ditching them," Sokka says. "Those guys are nothing but bad luck. We met them, and then what? Our ship sank, a serpent attacked us, Zuko almost got killed, _I _almost got killed, some giant Fire Nation drill thing tried to destroy the city—and look at my legs!"

From his place on Toph's shoulder, Momo flicks his tail and glances in a very different direction. Rather than argue with my brother, I follow the lemur's stare and am suddenly looking right at a woman coming our way. Her long dark hair billows in a gust of wind, and her odd smile is plain mystifying. I don't think I've ever seen a grin that wide on a human face.

"Hello, my name is Joo Dee," she says to get our attention. "I have been given the great honor of showing the Avatar around Ba Sing Se. And you must be Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Lee. And . . . where are the remaining three members of your team? Should there not be others?"

I'm glad we finally agreed on a nickname for Zuko before telling General Sung. He must have sent a message ahead of our arrival to let the Earth King know we're coming. Having the Fire Lord's son in our company probably wouldn't have gone over too well in Ba Sing Se.

"It's just us now," Aang explains. "The others went their own way."

Her eyes grow wide. "Friends of the Avatar alone in the city? We can't have such a thing." She takes a breath to recover her grin and calm demeanor. "But, not to worry. I'll send someone else to find them. They will also be . . . taken care of. In the meantime, to you five, welcome to our wonderful city." She bows. "Shall we get started?"

Sokka wheels forward. "Hey, lady! Down here! We have information about the Fire Nation army that we need to deliver to the Earth King immediately."

"Great!" she says, still grinning. "First we can begin our tour, and then I'll show you to your new home in the city."

My brother blinks. "Uh . . . I don't think you heard what I said. Let's start over. We need to talk to the Earth King about the war. It's really important."

She beams. "But you're in Ba Sing Se now. Everyone is safe here."

Now I'm just plain gawking. Does she even hear herself? Zuko looks like he's about to argue, but I shake my head and motion for my friends to follow. Maybe she just thinks it's not safe to talk here. Yeah, that's it. That probably explains the crazy grin—no normal person can smile like that. It must be some kind of cryptic sign.

She takes us down to a carriage drawn by ostrich horses, and we all pile inside. We bump through several sectors of the city, and as we go Joo Dee explains the layout. At first we ride through the lower ring, a section for newest arrivals and the poor who work with their hands. The middle ring is cleaner, home to shops and restaurants and the university. The upper ring, though, is as different as a shift from sea to air. Instead of the crowded roads and alleys of the lower ring, rolling hills space homes widely apart. Color is everywhere from flora I've never seen.

"This part of the city is for our most important citizens," she says. "Your house is not too far from here."

We pass another gated wall beyond which lies an enormous building. In the gateway stand three men wearing dark green robes and brimmed hats. They glance at us as we ride past, and I have a suspicion as to just what they're guarding.

"What's inside that wall?" I ask.

"Yeah, and who are those real friendly-looking guys in robes?" Sokka says. Warrior or not, he's still the sarcasm guy.

"Beyond that wall is the royal palace," Joo Dee says. "Those men are agents of the Dai Li. They are the guardians of Ba Sing Se's traditions."

Aang grins. "The royal palace? That's perfect! If we're going by, can we just go see the Earth King right now?"

The woman laughs. "Oh, no! I will have to put through a request for an audience first. One doesn't just _pop_ in on the Earth King."

Zuko drums his fingers against the carriage window. If it weren't for the bit where she was our escort, I think he'd be itching to _pop _her across the jaw. She's starting to get on my nerves, too. "If you just let us into the palace, I'm sure we'll find a way to convince him to see us today," he says, keeping his voice level. "I don't think you understand how important this is."

The carriage rolls to a halt. We've arrived at a small but neatly decorated home which I guess is meant for our stay here. Joo Dee pushes the carriage door open and ushers us outside. "Here we are, and it looks like we might have some good news." A messenger runs up to hand her a scroll, which she quickly skims. "Yes, as I suspected. Your request for an audience in being processed and should be put through in about a month. You see, the Avatar gets much quicker service than usual!"

My brother's jaw might as well be dangling on the floor. "A month!"

"Six to eight weeks, actually," she corrects with her typical grin.

I'm starting to be glad Zuko lost his swords on the _Titan_. Otherwise I'm pretty sure Joo Dee would be down on the ground with two threatening blades crossed at her throat. As it is I'm worried the hotheaded firebender will say something that'll get us kicked out of the city—or, worse, reveal his bending—but it's actually Toph who speaks first instead.

"Well, fine. We"—she grabs the back of Sokka's wheelchair and rolls him down the street—"are going to check out the city. See you guys later!"

Joo Dee gasps and runs a few steps after them. "No, please! I'll be happy to escort you anywhere you would like to go, but you must not go alone. That would make me a bad host."

"Sorry, but we don't need a babysitter."

She looks desperately from me to Aang to Zuko as if expecting help. "She's a big girl. She can handle herself," I say, shrugging up my shoulders.

"Would you three please stay here?" she pleads. "Then I will make certain your friends stay safe. And not to worry about your meals. Someone will be over with dinner later."

Aang and I nod obediently, which really means we're definitely going to sneak off the minute she leaves. I silently congratulate Toph for her brilliant thinking. For his part, Zuko crossed his arms as Joo Dee climbs in the carriage. He glares after the ostrich horses and they run off in pursuit of my brother and his caretaker.

"I don't like this city," he says.

I climb the few steps up to the house. "Oh, and I do? But we need to see the Earth King, so we're just going to have to make the best of it."

"If we're going to be here for a month, we should spend our time looking for Appa," Aang says. At the mention of the sky bison, Momo's ears perk up.

Zuko goes up the steps after me. "You're right, but it's a huge city. We can use this time to create a specific plan before we just go running around." He gazes out at all the walls and secrets this vast place holds. "And maybe we'll find someone else here, too."

We go into the house, which is welcoming and comforting in its wide and open decorated spaces. Shades of brown and green saturate the main room and the smaller bedrooms leading off it. There are three bedrooms in total, which leaves four of us with roommates and one person alone.

"Hey, there's a kitchen over here," Aang calls from another room. "I know they're bringing us dinner, but we can cook our food too."

"_After _we come up with a plan to search the city." I return to the main room to see Zuko already sitting at a low table in the center. "It's _your _sky bison that's missing," the firebender grumbles. "Worry about that before your stomach."

"_Zuko_," I say, kneeling down beside him. "He's already worried enough. What's wrong with trying to stay calm? We'll do everything we can, but don't remind him more than needed."

Aang emerges from the kitchen and joins us at the low table. "Trust me, _I_ know we need to find Appa. We also need to see the Earth King. Maybe he can even help us look for my buddy."

"It doesn't look like we're getting in the proper way. Not unless we want to wait six_ to eight weeks, actually_," I say, throwing my hands on my hips and doing my best Joo Dee impersonation.

"We could go search the city for clues on how to see him," Aang suggests. "I'm sure someone knows something."

"We should start with some pet shops and the university," Zuko says. "Appa's a piece of living history. Those seem likely choices for someone who needs to sell a stolen animal."

"Can we start with some tea? I'm thirsty," I say.

Zuko shoots me a glare. "I'll make some," he says gruffly, which really means he can't believe I'm thinking about tea at a time like this. But I can see Aang's starting to shake just thinking about Appa's kidnapping. Before we go, we need some quiet conversation to calm his nerves.

The firebender has been in the kitchen for all of two minutes when there's a stampede of feet and the clatter of stone wheels in the doorway. Aang and I leap up to the sight of Toph and Sokka bursting inside, both panting. My brother's yelling something and so is she, both talking over each other with so much loud jabber that I can't make out two words.

"Woah, woah!" I yell. "Guys, calm down. What happened?"

My brother flaps his arms. "We were looking through the shops—"

Toph gets in front of him. "But we were also hot and thirsty—"

"—and we wanted something to drink—"

"—there was this teashop—"

"—we went inside—"

"—sat at a table—"

"—and our server, you won't believe who—"

"Zuko!" Toph hollers, but already I can hear another set of footsteps coming up the steps outside. My heart takes a leap as a familiar person comes through the door bearing a tray with a teapot and plain white cups. He's smiling as he sets the tray down on the low table and pours out tea for each of us. But none of us touch the cups. We're all staring at the unbelievable sight that is the one person we were worried might even be dead, might no longer be here with us, but in the end if there's one thing you can't underestimate it's the strength of a tired old man who has more to live for now than anyone in the world has had for a long time. The old man who might see this war through to its very end and see his beloved nephew survive the ordeal under his watchful eye.

I hear the crash of pots and cups and a tray and know this means the young firebender is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the old man sip from his cup.

Zuko's shoulders are shaking. "Uncle."

Iroh takes another sip. "I am so happy you found your way here as well," he says, though all of us can see that behind the simple words are tears beading along his eyelids.

"_Uncle_," Zuko says, and now he's no longer in the middle of a house in Ba Sing Se. He's alone with Iroh in some world the rest of us can't see or touch or feel, but that's okay because we can step back as he runs to wrap his uncle in an embrace. I would call it a hug, but as the two men drop to their knees and the empty teacup rolls away under the table, forgotten, I know there's so much more they are experiencing together. It is the essence of love, it is the essence of life, it is the reason people say a man can travel the world in search of what he needs but only really find it in the place he calls home. Zuko's home is in his uncle's arms, the one person in the entire world he loves most of all.


	23. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 2

_A/N: Here's a short note to go along with a short chapter. This is mainly a transition segment because the real fun starts beginning with the next chapter (where all the desire conflict comes into play, and I promise—it will be awesome). Note: My profile page contains an important development regarding the fourth part of this saga. Please check there if you're interested in finding out about the special project I'll be undertaking in collaboration with fellow FFN author flutflutflyer. Also, we're fairly close to breaking 300 reviews (this is Sparta!). Help me reach that milestone and you may have all my love. All of it. _

I collect broken pieces of the teapot and cups Zuko was carrying and arrange them in a pile on the kitchen counter. Scattered bits of conversation float to me from the main room. When I return, the two firebenders are holding small white cups. Iroh takes long, slow sips. Zuko's hands are shaking and he's doing his best just to not drop the cup.

My brother and Toph have retreated to one of the bedrooms, though I'm sure they're eavesdropping from behind the door panel. Aang hovers uncertainly in the corner of the room. He glances from Iroh to Zuko to me to the few shattered fragments I'm slowly, slowly, picking up and transferring to the kitchen. We both feel like we're intruding on some secret thing, but I'm hoping we'll find out how Iroh beat us to the city by at least a few days when the most time we lost was a day at the outer wall and a few hours with the ship.

"Uncle, I-I didn't know . . . I thought for sure . . ."

From my angle, I can see Iroh smile. He sets down his cup and wraps his nephew in another comforting hug. "You should never have worried about me," he says. "You know I have friends in many places. And not just those who want to attack me."

I suspect this is some inside joke by the way Zuko's hands tighten around his cup as he nods knowingly. He's staring very hard at his uncle's shirt. I think more than anything he'd like to hide in the fabric where it's safe for sure. He doesn't because he knows Aang and I are watching, but I bet that's he wants just to make sure that Iroh is really actually back. To hide his face and not be coaxed back out for anything from the warm place that is close to his uncle's heart.

"Drink," Iroh instructs. He lays a hand on his nephew's. "There is no worry so great that it cannot be eased by a cup of tea."

"Worry? I've never been so _relieved_.How did you arrive in Ba Sing Se?" Zuko asks.

"Ah, this was the simple part! I took a monorail car to the city. Getting out of the desert, this was tricky. When the sandbenders decided to leave me behind, a young man took pity and pointed me in the direction of a camp only a few hours away by foot. I arrived before nightfall. The chief recognized me as the Dragon of the West and offered safe passage to the edge of the desert. His men took me by sand-sailer and gave me some coins for my journey, which I used to buy an ostrich horse from a breeding farm along the route." Iroh grins and strokes his beard. "There was a charming young woman on that farm. It's almost a shame I couldn't have stayed longer—"

"Uncle," Zuko says, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes, yes, get on with the story. I traveled on and sold my ostrich horse when I arrived at Full Moon Bay. With the money I bought a ferry ticket, but do you know what? They have such a ship in that bay now! I wish I could have taken it, but the ship wasn't leaving until the next day. I wanted the quickest passage. Instead I took a refugee ferry and then the monorail train. I arrived yesterday morning, but on the train I met a man who happens to own a very fine teashop in the upper ring. I impressed him with my skills. By comparison, he was serving hot leaf juice! He offered me a job serving tea, and I have been there since."

As Iroh warms the teapot on the warm cusp of his palm, I just stand there gawking. A day! All this time he beat us out of the desert by a single day and kept just ahead ever since. We even went to all the same places, the monorail and Full Moon Bay and—

Wait. _Wait_. Jia took a special interest in Zuko from the beginning. Maybe Iroh, who got there first, asked if she'd seen a boy of his nephew's description. But if Jia knew someone was looking for us, why didn't she say anything about it?

There's a tug on my sleeve. Aang points from us to the door. I quietly follow him outside. "What's wrong?" I ask once we're on the steps.

"Maybe we should give them some alone time," he suggests. "You and me, we can go look for Appa."

"I see I have excellent timing!" calls an annoyingly familiar voice. Joo Dee waves to us from her ostrich horse carriage. "I'll be happy to escort you anywhere you would like to go."

Aang joins her by the carriage. "I'm looking for my sky bison. I was thinking of looking around pet shops or at the university."

She opens the door and gestures inside. "I know of a few shops where we could start."

Bringing Sokka along would probably be our best bet. If there's a need for aggressive negotiations with a reluctant shopkeeper, my brother would be most effective at extracting information. But recruiting him would mean going back in the house. And interrupting Iroh and Zuko. Again.

So instead I pile into the carriage with Aang. We ride back down to the middle ring, which I recognize by the coloring of the roof tiles. I'm starting to see how this works. Yellow tiles mark the homes of nobility in the upper ring. Middle ring buildings, like that of the pet shop we're about to enter, are tiled green.

The owner perks up at the sight of customers . . . until Joo Dee follows us inside. He blinks, then dips his head and stares down. "Good afternoon," he says to the counter. "How may I be of assistance?"

"We're looking for a flying sky bison," Aang explains. "He's white and brown with an arrow mark on his head."

"Uh . . ." The pet shop owner glances at Joo Dee. By the time I follow his gaze, she's just standing there grinning as usual. But the owner's shoulders are tense, his hands clasped tightly on the counter. "I'm sorry, but I haven't heard anything about a flying bison."

"Are you sure? If you think really hard?"

I gently push Aang aside. I'll have to pretend I'm Sokka for the next few minutes. Arms crossed. Jaw set. "Listen, I know there's somewhere people go to sell stolen animals. If you're in the market, I bet you know," I accuse.

He shakes his head, but noticeable sweat is breaking out on his brow. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave. There are other customers waiting and I don't know anything about a sky bison."

"Come along. There are many other places to try," Joo Dee says, steering me and Aang outside by the shoulders. "We could visit the university next."

Only her helpful suggestion goes as uselessly as the pet shop. We catch a student at the foot of a statue's pedestal, but he claims to not have a clue either. Like the shop owner, the student looks hard at Joo Dee before answering anything. I almost think she's shaking her head, but when I turn to look she's just smiling as usual.

As we climb into the carriage, she offers a sympathetic sigh. "I'm sorry no one has seen your bison. Why don't we go home so you can get some rest?"

"I think we could try a few more pet shops. Maybe down in the lower ring," I suggest.

"Are you certain? It's quite dangerous."

But I'm wondering exactly what kind of danger we're talking. Danger because of the people, or danger because of what Aang and I might find out? "We'll risk it," I decide.

We head down to crowded streets whose buildings have roofs tiled brown. Dirt serves as paths for most of the streets, unlike the flagstone roads of the other two rings. The carriage stops outside a shop with grimy shuttered windows. Outside, the ostrich horse stamps its feet and snorts. It doesn't seem to like this place any more than Joo Dee, who sneaks a tight-lipped glance outside.

"Well, here is a pet shop. Although I believe you will find nothing in such a poor—"

"Aang," I say, cutting her off. "Why don't you do go on ahead? I'm kind of feeling tired. I'll wait for you guys here."

The airbender is about to protest, but Longshot has taught us that friends can speak without words. I give an almost imperceptible nod, and he steps out of the carriage with our escort. I watch them go. It is the way of some things to converse without voice, as when I sometimes speak to the trees or waves of the water. I lay my hand on bark, and the leaves respond with rustling. I stand on the edge of shore and sea, and the waves slap and fizzle at my feet. The trees and the ocean and I speak one silent tongue. Likewise, in our quiet exchange, Aang knows I'm not tired in the least. So long as Joo Dee follows us, there's no way we'll find anything out. I bet there are other pet shops around here. I'll take a quick look and come right back before she knows I've snuck off.

As soon as they're inside the shop, I swing the door open and climb out. I'm careful that the ostrich horse driver doesn't notice I'm slipping away. It's easy to lose myself in the thick crowds of people. I ask around and get directions to another pet shop only a few streets down. When I go in, it's just me and another customer at the counter. A sparrowkeet pauses its meal of birdseed to chirp at me. A single, high-pitched note.

I see money exchange hands. The previous customer brushes past me with a lingering look that seems to stay on the back of my head as I approach the counter. The small man behind it bows courteously. "May I help you?"

"Good afternoon. I'm looking for a flying bison."

The man adjusts his collar. He's got a soft, delicate look to him. "A _flying _bison? Why, do you mean the ones the air nomads used to have?"

"Yeah! That's it exactly."

"Why, I didn't know there were any still around."

My heart sinks. So much for that hope.

He shoots me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. If there were any way I could help, I'd love to. But goodness, I don't think you're going to find a bison like that in this city. Too big to be hidden anywhere."

He's right. We're not going to find Appa by going around and asking people. If he's in the city, he must be some place big enough to keep a whole sky bison. But where could such a place be except maybe the palace? Well. That just gives us all the more reason to get to the Earth King.

I walk to the door. "Thanks."

"You get back to your parents. It's not safe to just be wandering around."

My gaze is drawn to the customer from before, a man with a bowl haircut who seems to be choosing between two bags of birdseed in the corner of the store. I thought he'd left by now. He looks away when he sees me watching. _Keep breathing, keep breathing. Just get back to Aang_, I instruct myself. Before I go, the sparrowkeet sings out again. That one, high note.

But when I get outside, I almost don't remember which road I took to get here. There are people all over, people haggling and people yelling and people sitting in the road. I push through a crowd and come out in an intersection of two dirt lanes. This doesn't look familiar. Where's the ostrich horse carriage? And the other pet shop?

I follow a road that looks somewhat like a street I passed, but it leads out to a fountain I've never seen. Perfect. Getting lost in the lower ring was _exactly _on my to-do list. I sit on the stone edge of the fountain and touch my cheeks. What have I gone and done?

Okay. It's not even evening and still plenty of time before nightfall. As long as I get back by then, I'll be fine. I wind down another street and pass through the long blue shadows cast by cramped buildings. The shadows lengthen as the sun rolls across the sky. I want to get directions to the middle ring, but if anyone thinks I'm from the richer districts I could get mugged for sure. Even in broad daylight, leers come at me from alleys and inside doorways. And nightfall is coming sooner than I thought.

By evening, I've decided the best plan is to just circle back and wait by the fountain. I know I've found the right one by the statue in the center, but it's fully dark now. First thing I check for is to see if there's water in the fountain, but it's dry. And why should the Earth Kingdom waste money on the lower ring where there's no one but the poor and refugees? I'm shaking, wondering what I'll do if my friends don't find me here tonight. If I'd just stayed put earlier, I'd be home already. But instead I had to go wander around and get more lost. _Great, Katara. Good work._

"Need directions, sweetheart?"

My head snaps up at the low, smooth voice. A man is standing in the black shadow of a building. His mouth curves in a smirk. He steps into the moonlight and I see it's the customer from the shop. The one whose eyes stayed on me for too long.

"Are you lost?" he asks.

"I'm fine. Just waiting for someone."

He holds up his hand as if checking to see if his fingernails are filed. "You've been lost all day. My boys saw. They were tracking you."

Boys? But it's clear enough what he means when five other men slip out of the alleys encircling the fountain plaza. My hands reach out for water, but that's right. The fountain's dry. All I have is my water skin. How long can I hold off six 200-pound males with just that water? Still, my feet find their usual positions. Maybe they won't call my bluff.

"I'm a master. I can take you all down."

Their leader's eyebrows angle up. "Ah, you're a waterbender. I recognize that stance. Too bad you picked a bad fountain."

I bend the water from its container. The arc shimmers in the moonlight. "I've got this. Try to take me and you'll regret it."

"Big words for a little girl." The men encircle me. I look from one to the other to the next. Some hold sticks. Others empty fists that look heavier than wood.

"I'm with the Avatar!" I shout. It's the one chance I've got before I have to fight.

He shrugs. "I've seen a dozen Avatars. Does yours having a convincing arrow?"

One of the men tackles me. His heavy hand bats me across the head from behind. My muscles react and send a cutting edge of ice at his body. His companion deflects the strike with his stick. The wood splinters in half, but they've grabbed my arms and are dragging me down. One smothers me with his body. Another is an earthbender who seals dirt over my hands so I can't break free or use my bending. I'm on my back and they're on my clothes. I scream and kick out. Earth seals over my feet, too.

"Her screams are annoying. Knock her out," the boss orders.

One of the men gets down and pins my stomach with a knee. He slams his fist into my head with full force, but not before I break out one final shriek. The side of my head grows wet and sticky as I lie on the dirt. Heaviness weighs me down, my strength drained right out. Hard puffs of breath come from my mouth. The other men say things I can't make out, but I see the one who struck me raise his fist again. I think how this it is. How in a moment there will be nothing else.

But then the sun washes over the sky. It rinses darkness out from the spaces between the stars. Warmth moves over my face in a wave. A great force rips the kneeling man away from my body, but all I can focus on is the golden light. This blanket of comfort carries me into rest.


	24. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 3

_A/N: You have a real treat coming with this update. Specifically, I predict that the opening paragraph will blow your mind if you read very carefully (and the closing paragraph will have you beating out your frustration against a wall). Props and predictions regarding the opening teaser encouraged via reviews._

Hot, humid air moves across my face. I'm in a warmer place than I've ever been, though when I sit up I see the wide ocean through a window. The home around me is dusty and the floors swept clear of furniture as if we're in some abandoned place. I try to get up, but a tug at my hair holds me back. Kneeling behind me on the bare floor is a man I've never seen. His long black hair is loose around his shoulders, his hand lifted halfway through the gesture of brushing with a red comb.

_Katara_, he says.

Katara.

". . . Katara?"

I open my eyes in a very quiet place that smells of tea leaves. A younger man so similar to the one holding the comb is leaning over me, though this one's face bears the scar of his father's rage. "Zuko," I murmur, laying my fingers on the curve on his cheek just to be sure he's real.

"Hey," he says. "It's good to see you smiling again."

A jolt of alarm courses through me. I start to sit up, but the sudden motion leaves me dizzy. Zuko steadies me with an arm around my shoulders. "How long was I out?" I ask, remembering the men who attacked me.

"Just the night. You're up in time for breakfast. Uncle's cooking. We'll have real tea for a change."

A blush prickles into my cheeks. "Thank you."

He's smiling. All gentleness. "For what?"

"Saving me from the thugs."

He chuckles. "As much as I'd like to take credit for that, I wasn't the one who found you."

"Oh. Iroh, then?"

"Let's go get something to eat. Just don't get up too quickly." He offers me a hand.

I take that to mean I'm not getting a straight answer until he's sure I'm fed and doing well. He braces my body against his and helps me stand, so now we're leaning against one another in what I'm guessing must be the back of the tea shop where Iroh works. That would explain the warm smell everywhere. It occurs to me there's something weighing down my head. I lift my hand to my temple and find it bandaged.

"You're the real healer," he says apologetically. "Uncle did what he could."

"Go to breakfast. I'll work on this and come when I'm done."

He shakes his head. "I'll wait."

I don't know what's gotten into Zuko. If there was a plate of food right here between us, I wouldn't be surprised if he started feeding me bites of rice and chicken. "What's up with you?" I ask.

"Hmm? Nothing. I'm just glad you're okay."

He leads me to a small room with a washbasin and a mirror leaned up against the wall. I peel off the bandage and study my reflection. Certainly there's bruising under my hair, but nothing time won't take care of. I'm about to tell Zuko his uncle did a good job when I catch his eyes in the mirror. If there is an interpreter for the soul, the eyes are it. And while some of the most beautiful things in life are the mysterious, even more beautiful is the chance to sense the real person hiding behind a façade. In this moment when he thinks I'm not looking, his eyes let me in deeper than he probably means.

"Uh . . . actually, maybe I will help Uncle with breakfast," he says quickly the instant he realizes I'm watching him. But there's something else I saw in his face, a thing that makes me call him back.

"Zuko?"

He half-turns. "Yes?"

"Did you sleep?"

He asks _why wouldn't I _to deflect the question, though the traces of dark circles under his eyes tell me otherwise.

"Just wondering." I step away from the mirror and follow him down a narrow hall. "Because if you're tired, you can take a nap now. I can walk myself down to breakfast."

"I'm fine." The reserve is back in his voice.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever you want. I'm just saying—"

"Through here." He points to an open doorway beyond which are scattered tables with customers sipping tea and taking bites of pastries. I'm looking around for my friends when I hear my name shouted across the room. There's a flash of movement and then Aang has wrapped his arms around my middle.

"Katara," he says gently as if my name is a precious gift on his tongue. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"Just a bit tired. Pretty good otherwise."

Iroh waves to me across the room. He's pouring a cup of tea for a customer. "I am glad to see you awake! My nephew and your friends have been worried all night."

Aang doesn't let go for a full minute. He holds on tight as if this might be the last moment he'll ever have with me. How different would the world be if this is how we saw life, if we treated each moment as if it were our last? Then we could all live today and not yesterday or tomorrow or the day after that. Just live today, as I'm not doing. I'm not living today because I'm holding off the eventual moment when I'll let myself confront what I saw in Zuko's eyes this morning. His held that same longing, that same wonder, that same uncertainty I've felt for the past many days. But I know why I'm afraid to face him with my feelings. In seeing those same emotions reflected, I wonder if I saw what was really there or what I wanted to see. If maybe I only saw my own reflection in his gaze.

"Hey, sis! Get over here," Sokka calls from across the room. "We left you a bunch of breakfast. And it's all amazing. Take your pick, you can't go wrong."

Aang steers me over to an empty seat at a corner table. Toph acknowledges me with a nod. She can't say much around a mouthful of pastry, so I take the sounds she makes to mean _good morning_.

"I just want to forget last night," I tell them before anyone gets aggressive with questions. "Though I do want to thank Iroh. Where'd he go?"

"Refills coming up!" he sings out behind me. He pours us all fresh cups of steaming tea and sets out a tray brimming with sweets. "I don't usually endorse desert before a proper meal, but a special occasion calls for special circumstance. Is this what you are thanking me for? If so, no need at all! No morning is complete without a good breakfast."

There's something about his attitude that never fails to coax a grin out of me. "This _is_ great, but I meant for last night. You saved me from those thugs."

When Iroh laughs, it's the kind that comes from his belly and fills the room with warmth. "You haven't told her yet?" he asks, his gaze sweeping the table.

Huh? "Listen, I know what I saw. It was a firebender . . ."

But suddenly the table grows very quiet and I realize everyone's looking at me. Sort of at me. I follow their eyes carefully and see that they're actually looking at Aang sitting beside me, whose face has turned the color of cherry pastry filling.

"You know, you're not the only one who's been doing some training with Zuko," he says sheepishly.

I hug him so tightly I doubt he can breathe. I don't think he minds much, though. "That was you?"

"Ever since I hurt you, I've seen firebending as destruction," he explains. "And most of the firebenders I've met have just helped prove that. But seeing Zuko change from our enemy to our friend has helped me understand there are no bad elements. Just bad people. And also good ones I'm proud to call Sifu."

I hear the words, but the full impact doesn't smack me on the face right off. It takes a few moments to slowly drain through me. Aang and Zuko, training. Aang and Zuko, both firebenders now. And where was I for all this? What was I doing? Thinking about Zuko, that's what. Guilt crawls under my skin. It's just the same as with my brother's spinal wound. I've let that firebender become a near-obsession and it's clouding my eyes to everything else that matters. I take a breath and trap it down in my lungs. _From now on, you're giving everyone equal attention_, I instruct. I let the breath go, sealing a promise with myself. After all, we're in Ba Sing Se and it's going to be a long wait until we get to the Earth King. Plenty of time for a girl's day out with Toph and down time with my brother and the airbender.

"Want to show off your skills after breakfast?" I ask.

Aang blushes but glances across the table. "I think you're already scheduled for something else."

"You need a way to protect yourself that's not just waterbending," Zuko explains. "We found you by a dry fountain last night. What if next time you're in a place with no water at all? I promised we'd forge swords in the city. Might as well make that day today so we can start training early tomorrow."

Sokka looks miffed. "Swords? How come no one invited me to the party?"

Toph finishes off my brother's cup of tea. "Focus on getting your legs back, Snoozles."

"Speaking of parties, you will not believe our good fortune," Iroh calls from a few tables down. He delivers tea to a customer and then hurries over, clutching a flyer. He lays the paper down so we can all see. "The Earth King is having a party tomorrow evening for his pet bear. As one of the finest tea shops in the city—thanks to my recipes, of course!—we have been invited to cater."

"That's perfect!" I say. "We'll just go as servers and find him in the crowd!"

Iroh hums a few notes of some unfamiliar song. "And we have even better fortune," he adds, nodding at his nephew and then pointing a few tables over. There's a girl our age sitting there, dressed in green robes with two long braids coming down her shoulders. She snatches a glance at us, then looks back down at her tea.

"What about her?" Zuko asks.

"She's been looking at you all morning. Seems to me she has a little crush on you."

My friend drops his teacup with a clatter. "Uncle. We need to focus on the Earth King—"

"You know, life happens in peacetime and in war. One of these days you _will_ find yourself with a lady friend," Iroh tells him. Zuko's ears match the red shade of his scar, and Toph's trying hard not to crack up. My brother's not even trying. He's laughing like the idea of Zuko with a girlfriend is the funniest thing there is.

"Leave him alone," I snap. I break a pastry more roughly than necessary and stuff half of it in Sokka's mouth. He half-chokes but then eats quietly. Zuko clears his throat and stands.

"Katara, let's get going. It'll take most of the day to finish. Uncle told me of a good place we could go. He was exploring the city before we got here."

Really, I think he just wants to escape before Iroh invites that girl over to sit with us or brings up the subject of grandbabies, much to Sokka's delight. We're almost to the door when I hear footsteps behind us. Zuko stops, and it's because the girl with twin braids just tugged on his sleeve.

"Hey, wait a sec," she says. "That's your uncle serving, right? I just wanted to say he makes great tea."

Zuko takes a step back. "Uh . . . thanks. Maybe you should go tell him yourself."

"Good advice." She offers a handshake. "My name's Jin. What's your name?"

I step between them and grab Zuko's hand. "We're actually really late to something. Like, right now. We've gotta go."

I drag him through the doorway. Jin follows us outside. "Oh. Are you his girlfriend, then?"

First Jia, now Jin. Why does everyone need the answer to that? "No . . ."

"She's not my girlfriend," Zuko says, more decisively. "Just my friend."

Jin leans against the side of the tea shop. She half-lowers her eyelids, beaming. "Hmm. Well, see you later."

Through a window, I notice Iroh watching us very closely. He strokes his beard, then pours a cup of tea for a customer.

I expect Zuko to take us down to the lower ring where people work with their hands, but he takes me to an isolated shop not far from ours in the upper ring. I guess even high-ranking citizens make use of exquisite weapons. We don't talk much along the route. Instead I wonder about that tea shop girl. Jin certainly seemed dressed like a lower-class citizen. Somewhere in Joo Dee's ramblings, she mentioned how the upper ring was restricted to citizens with the person invitation of a citizen of the upper ring, the government, or the Earth King himself. Unless Jin was being modest, how did she get to the tea shop from the lower rings?

"What did you think of her?"

"Who?" Zuko asks, confused.

"Jin."

"What? She's a stranger I just met. What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know. That she's cute?"

He looks away. The faintest trace of color comes into his face. "She's attractive. But there are more important things. Like . . . courage." He smiles at me. "And loyalty."

Now the color in is _my _face, but thankfully we're at the door to the weapons shop. Zuko holds it open as I step inside.

An old man with graying hair bows behind the counter. "Good morning. How may I be of assistance?"

My friend returns the bow. "Is it true we can forge swords here?"

"I sell many excellent blades. Perhaps you wish to examine my collection instead?"

Zuko closes his eyes as if looking back on some past memory. "No," he says slowly. "A sword must be an extension of yourself. We have to make our own."

The man nods knowingly. "Wise words from a young man."

"I had a wise teacher."

The shopkeeper escorts us to an open forgery in the back. Since we're in the upper ring, beyond this three-walled room lies a rolling meadow. I gaze out at grass and flowers that smell as fresh as might a rain-cleansed world.

"You may use any materials you wish. We will arrange payment when you finish." He bows once more and leaves the two of us alone.

"He's trusting," I point out.

"I think he knows my master."

"But you didn't mention Piandao by name?"

"Wise men share wise words." He wanders around the room, looking around at the many types of swords decorating the walls. "Before we start, we need to pick out a style that suits you best. A sword has to reflect the core of your being." He says that with the air of quoting.

I sigh. "How long is this going to—"

"As long as it takes! If you have somewhere else to be, we'll come back another day."

"No, no . . . sorry," I say quickly, backtracking.

He points out longswords and broad swords, rapiers and hook swords, but as he explains the types of fighters each blade is best suited I only halfway listen. I already know just the type of swords that are right for me. The original reason I wanted to train with Zuko wasn't to become a swordmaster. I think I'll never be that, though maybe once or twice in my life I'll need to use the blades. The lessons were to connect with this mysterious firebender and learn of the two halves of his being, that as my enemy and that as my friend. Knowing those two sides of the same person is the one way to know a person whole.

"Well? Choose carefully."

"Dual dao," I say. He sighs are if he knew that's what I'd say right from the very start. Probably he thinks I'm just being a copycat.

"Those are advanced weapons. Twin swords aren't easy to master for someone who can't swing a wooden stick yet. It'll take too long and too much effort to learn."

"But I like the idea of two blades. They're like complementary halves of the same warrior. Two sides of the person who wields them."

Zuko stares as if that's the most stunning thing he's ever heard in his life, and I guess it is coming from my mouth. Then he looks to the rack of dual dao blades in the corner. "I can respect that." He leads me over to a table bearing several bricks of steel. "The first step in crafting a sword is choosing the right material. You have to trust it with your life."

I look from one brick to the other. They look identical to me. "Uh . . . can I get your advice on this one?"

He shakes his head. "Your blade. Your choice."

"But you said I have to trust it with my life. I trust _you_ with my life. I want you to pick."

He runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Well, I guess I had some help, too."

"From your master?"

"From my mother. She worked with me on my first swords just like I'm working with you." He looks away and sighs through his nose. "But I lost those swords in the north."

The momentary grief in his eyes tells me those swords are irreplaceable, just like my mother's necklace. I touch his hand, our fingers linking. Letting go is easier when you have someone to rebuild with.

"I'd go with this one," he says. He touches the leftmost brick.

I take it without hesitation. "Then let's get started."

"First, we need to start a proper fire." There's a stone forge in the corner, though right now it's empty of flames. He points to a bag of coal in the corner. "You'll be shoveling and then working the bellows. We both will, since I'll also be making swords of my own."

While he sets to work preparing the forge, I'm assigned the task of breaking our two bricks of identical steel into smaller pieces with a hammer and chisel. I'm sweating through my clothes by the time I'm through arranging the fragments into two buckets. Thankfully Zuko taps my shoulder and holds out a change of outfit, a jerkin and an apron he says is treated to make it resistant to fire. I change in the corner after making sure he's not looking. Some small bit of me almost wants him to look just to know what he'd think. My face burns hot just from the thought.

By the time I turn back, the flames have burned down to an even bed of coals. Zuko is a figure cast in shadow against the forge, outlined by burning yellow light. He's taken off his shirt in the heat. I wish I could do the same and strip down to my wrappings, but I don't know if I trust myself next to a fire without some kind of protection. As a firebender, he's worked with flames his whole life. The training reflects in his body, in his muscles and concentration, in the sweat coming down his face. Now I don't know if the heat in my face is from the forge or my own inner fire, but all that matters is we're here together in this place.

Zuko and I, together.

He gently sets the two buckets inside by means of iron tongs. Sparks spiral up like a swarm of glowing insects. There are two bellows for the smelter, and we each grab the handles of one set. For the next many hours we supply the flames with streams of fresh air so it burns higher and hotter. The heat and the effort of pumping soon have even shirtless Zuko covered in a sheen of sweat. His bare arms glow in the firelight, though they've got nothing on the glow of his golden eyes.

We take turns leaving the bellows to shovel fresh layers of coal over the fire. This takes long enough that I'd lose track of the time if it weren't for the open wall and the sky beyond it. The sun moves slowly, steadily, through its blue waters. We work relentlessly, stopping only for a few bites of rice and meat at lunch served by the shopkeeper. It's late afternoon when the firebender finally motions to the tongs again. We pull the buckets from the forge and carefully position our liquid metal over separate molds of twin blades. He shows me how to hammer the steel, though when he sees I'm struggling he comes over to help after finishing his own weapons and quenching them in a trough of water. I watch his hands rise and fall with the beats of the hammer. I watch them rise and fall with the beats of my heart.

When he quenches my blades, a cloud of steam rises from the hissing and bubbling water. After a minute when the sizzling has subsided, he holds up the silver swords so they, too, catch the light of the fire. Along with lunch, the shopkeeper had brought two sheaths. Zuko helps me strap mine on and places the swords within.

"When I first made my swords, I was told to name each," he says, examining his new weapons. "I called my original ones discipline and strength for the two virtues of a great warrior, but I think I'd be better off naming these honor and dishonor." He brings the swords together and holds them up so one half of his face is visible on either side of the twin blades. "One for the person I was before I became your friend. The other for the person I would never have been if I'd never known you."

And in the firelight, in the evening dark, I sense the winds of a great destiny passing across us both. I've learned in life that a change in just one single person can help change the destiny of the world. With Zuko on our side, with Zuko on _my _side, who knows how the seeds of fate will bloom.

"Let me pay the owner. We'll be back at the tea shop in time for dinner."

Starlight guides us home. We don't say anything this time, either, but that's because I'm distracted gazing up at the stars way above us. I remember being back in the desert and thinking how the stars are like tiny dots you connect when you look back on your life from a distant future. Zuko and I have fallen into step with one another, and for the first time I feel like I'm beginning to see how those dots are falling into place.

"Thank you," I whisper as he opens the door to the shop. "For . . . everything."

He looks down hard at the floor and takes a breath. When he looks back, I see in his face that he's about to speak. His eyes tell me it's something important. My heart starts up a low hum inside my chest—

"Ah, there you are! Glad to see you're back. Your friends have gone home, but I have dinner all laid out for you," Iroh calls from across the mostly empty shop the moment he spots us the doorway. I half-expect him to push teacups into our hands, but he comes over with nothing but a sly grin.

"We both have new swords," Zuko says, now distracted from the thing he was going to say. I'd be a liar to say I don't wish that, for once, Iroh had just stayed quiet for another minute or so.

"Ah, very good. But that is not the only new thing around here."

At this, Zuko's eyes narrow. "Uncle?"

"New arrangements, that's what we have! Tomorrow we will face the Earth King, but the day after"—Iroh wraps an arm around his nephew's shoulders—"you have somewhere to be in the evening."

"_Uncle_?" Zuko says more urgently, but somehow I already know what Iroh's going to say. I see it in his wide grin. I see it in his smiling eyes.

"I told that girl from this morning you'd love to take her out to dinner. It's already settled. You'll meet in front of the shop at sundown. Oh, oh! That woman over there is getting impatient. Wait here. I'll be back in a moment!" And he bustles off, leaving us alone.

I'm standing there beside Zuko, and nothing has changed aside for an arranged date set for two evenings from now. My friend hasn't even had time to react beyond a blank, then bewildered, gaze. But already I feel as if something has shifted and I'm losing something, a thing I will go on losing for a very long time. Something I never quite had to begin with.

_A/N: Several chapters ago, IAmCharlotte94441 offered what I consider to be the highest praise possible for this story: "I have a feeling it will go into the fanfic vaults as one of those 'classic Zutara' stories that we all know and love." Regarding the past chapter, tinkerbelle0603 also offered moving words: "You have turned a Kataanger who was slightly skeptical starting this story into a big fan." As I said from the beginning, my goal is simple: to weave a good tale and take you on a fun trip. Glad to know it seems I'm doing that well!_


	25. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 4

_A/N: Thank the spirits I had some extra time to get this chapter done early (yay!). Important news: my profile page now contains more details about "My Other Daughter," the tentative title of this saga's upcoming companion story. Comments regarding the tentative title/summary would be much appreciated._

Zuko doesn't argue as we sit down at our corner table to eat, and why should he? His uncle meant the gesture out of love for his nephew, though I thought Iroh would be more insightful. Doesn't he see the sparks of affections we've kindled? Unless that's it exactly. That long time ago when we were by a canyon creek, Iroh told me his nephew was a troubled young man and that I would be a good influence on him. He told me _you are not too proud to admit your faults and have courage to stand up to him _and then smiled knowingly, like we now held some secret between us. Nowhere in that did he say I should be anything more to Zuko than an influence as his friend.

Or maybe I'm just overthinking the details.

I quench my bitterness with warm tea. At least the spirit of this drink is comfort. Across the table, Zuko picks at some rice. Like me, he's probably neither full nor hungry. If anything, he's embarrassed. I try to guess what he's thinking, but sadly I can only wonder. Haven't I been through this before, trying to figure out what Zuko is like when he's alone with his thoughts? That's still the one thing, after all this time, I can never really know. Doesn't mean I can't try to get inside his head.

Maybe he's thinking of Jin. It could be that he did like her in some small way after all. And what if he likes the date? She'll come on her best behavior and in her best clothes, grinning and tugging gently on her braids, tussling his hair and giggling at all the right moments. They'll have dinner and go out for a stroll in the welcoming dark that calms uncertain hearts. Walking hand in hand, they'll come to a plaza ringed with glowing torches that cast a golden shade across the flagstone road and the water splashing into a central fountain. Jin will turn to Zuko, gazing shyly now as her fingers grip his more tightly. She'll whisper soft words that are more sacred somehow because they are out of reach of the day's harsh light. And then she'll press her lips to his, very gently. So slowly, so timidly, that Zuko won't even resist. They'll kiss in the comforting, quiet dark that protects all secret truths. And the next day they'll return, now a couple, and I'll be standing at the top of the steps watching them rise together—

"Hey. Have you finished your dinner?"

I blink at the waving hand that suddenly materializes in front of my face. "Huh?"

Zuko sighs. "You were distracted. I just wanted to know if you're ready to go."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Uncle." My friend brings our used plates and cups to the counter and sets them down. "Are you coming with us? We have room in the house."

"My place is here with the tea," Iroh says, half in jest. More seriously, he adds, "There is a place in the back I use for rest. We will see one another again in the morning for breakfast, bright and early! But until then, go with your friends." The corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile. "You are beginning to find your own way."

Zuko hugs his uncle. "Stay safe," he says. Then we wish Iroh goodnight and go back out into the evening world.

The weight of the swords on my back is a constant reminder of Zuko's presence. We are walking so close that it would take the slightest sway of my hand, just enough motion to cross two inches of space, and our fingers would be touching. Probably the worst feeling is a desire so strong that the longing literally makes your heart hurt. Each time I think of holding his hand, the pain starts up again because I'm not sure if it's a thing I can ever have. There's Jin, but even without her, there's the girl we met by the drill. Mai, who he promised to find somewhere in the city. What hurts most of all is being so close to Zuko right now in physical distance, but really, knowing we're further apart than we've ever been. That's the worst feeling: understanding there may be things in life that you can never hold, touch, have, and all because other girls—

I stop.

Just stop walking.

Stop right there in the street.

"Katara? What's wrong?"

He's turned to look at me across all those miles of distance, but I feel like I need to sit down and breathe deeply until my head clears. I am _not _the jealous kind to be having such thoughts. This is about Zuko and his happiness. I'll support him in whatever he chooses.

"Oh, uh, I'm fine. Just . . . uh . . . not used to how heavy these swords are." I pretend to pant. That he quirks an eyebrow lets me know he's not at all convinced, but he lets it go.

"Well, okay. If you're sure."

"Yeah, totally." I jog a few steps to catch up.

"Did you decide what you'll name your swords yet?"

"Uh . . ."

"You don't have to tell me," he says.

"But you told me yours."

"Sharing names like that . . . it's a part of your identity. You can't give that out to just anyone. So you tell me when you're ready, if you're ever ready. It's a sacred thing."

We go up the steps to the house, but a piece of me is rooted to the spot where he confessed something so special. Trust is the highest compliment a person can give, especially coming from a boy like Zuko. He's come so far from the angry hothead who wouldn't let me near his uncle. But I've come a far way, too. We all have.

Inside, all of the lights are dimmed. Our friends have dispersed to their rooms, but a note on the table tells us about the arrangements. Toph and Sokka will share one room since he's poor and crippled and needs her caretaking (I roll my eyes; caretaking . . . or something like that). Aang is alone in another. It's up to me and Zuko to decide what happens with the last empty room.

We swap glances. "I could take the last room," he offers.

Then it's up to me.

"I could stay with . . ."

The final word hovers on the tip of my tongue, caught just beyond my throat but not exactly out in the open yet. He's looking at me with an unreadable expression, and a part of me isn't sure if that would be breaking some unspoken code.

". . . Aang."

Well, that's that.

He wishes me goodnight and reminds me about training in the morning. I watch him go. Zuko pauses at the doorway to his bedroom, almost as if about to turn around, but then he doesn't. He steps inside and out of sight.

And I am left alone in the living room to push a piece of loose hair out of my eyes.

It's a fifty-fifty shot as to which room is Aang's and which belongs to my brother and Toph, but of course I get it wrong the first time. I walk in on a moment of peace. They're lying there together on one of the two mats, not touching but still warm under a shared blanket. The earthbender is smiling like she's having some sweet and beautiful dream, or maybe one about punching people. You never know with her. Sokka's just grinning, and whether he's dreaming about meat or his boomerang or the girl beside him—because despite being a tough fighter, she is a girl after all—is its own mystery. Because they're asleep, I kneel by my brother and check his back to see his spine is doing. The swelling's gone down a little, so the oil Toph's been using seems to be working. Maybe he'll have his legs back sooner than I thought.

"Stay tough," I whisper to all three of us.

I leave them sleeping together and instead walk to the next room over. I hesitate halfway through the doorway, anxious for a reason I can't quite place. When I go in, Aang is lying on his back under the blanket. His eyes are open. He's gazing up at the ceiling but sits up when he hears me coming. What could I expect from Aang but a shy smile?

"Hi," he says.

"Hey. It's so late. Why are you still up, huh?" I tease.

"I was waiting for you to get back so I'd know you're safe. I heard you guys out in the living room. I was hoping you'd come in to say goodnight."

I'd also be a liar to say my heart doesn't melt a little at his words. "I'm, uh . . . if it's okay, I'd like to stay with you tonight."

He bobs his head. "I'd love that."

I lie down on the second mat. Blankets, like the dark, are good for hiding secrets. Mine hides the unbidden blush on my cheeks.

"Hey," I whisper.

He rolls over so we're facing each other. "Hey."

"I don't know if I thanked you properly. You know, for saving me last night. So, uh . . . thanks. Yeah."

Well. If there's a prize for being an awkward turtle duck when it comes to thank-yous, I think I just scored first place. Good to know I've got talent in something.

Aang's talent is diffusing awkward situations. His hand moves across the space between our mats. He lays his fingers on mine. "I'll be there for you no matter what. You know that."

Now we're both smiling.

"How did the forging go?" he asks.

"Pretty good. Zuko and I have matching dual dao swords."

He shifts slightly under his blanket. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together. It's good you're really making him feel like part of the team."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"You know . . . I'd be nice for us to spend some time together, too."

I prop myself up on an elbow but say nothing, but entirely sure where this is leading. Though already, a dark suspicion is nipping at my hammering heart.

"Katara." He sits up, nervously linking and unlinking his hands. "Iroh was saying something today about how Zuko's going to have dinner with that girl we saw this morning in the tea shop. That got me thinking. And, uh, I was wondering . . . wouldyouhavedinnerwithme?"

My stomach is about to fall out through the bottom of my feet. "W-what?"

"Sorry, too fast." He takes a calming breath, though I doubt a thousand calming breaths would be enough. "Katara, would you have dinner with me? Maybe the day after tomorrow since that's when Zuko will be out."

I fiddle with a hair loopy. "We have dinner together all the time."

He's looking at the wall, floor, ceiling—anywhere but at my eyes. That's how nervous he is. "You know what I mean," he says quickly, and finally he looks right at my face. "A dinner for you and me. Just us."

Of course I know what he means. His begging eyes are asking for something I don't know how to give him.

"Aang, I . . ."

But a small part of me still remembers how I felt about him back in the cave where two lovers once met. It is this part that makes me hesitate. It wonders if maybe I didn't give him enough of a chance. If maybe what I think I see in Zuko isn't necessarily there and I just haven't know him long enough to understand otherwise. Aang's holding in a breath, waiting for me to decide his fate with a single word.

"I . . . yeah, sure," I say at last. "Sounds like fun."

His face lights up like I've given him the greatest gift there is. He squeezes my hand, wishes me goodnight, and rolls onto his back to sleep at last. _Oh, Katara_, I tell myself as he grins at some secret thought. _What have you gone and done? _

My own sleep is dreamless, and I'm woken in the morning by a hand shaking my shoulder. "Ugh. 'Five more minutes'won't work on you, right?" I murmur.

Zuko's mouth is smiling. "Get up."

I rub the sleepies out of my eyes on the way to the living room. "Are we going outside?"

"No. This space is big enough. We'll practice until the others are up."

He picks up two pieces of wood from the low table, meaning he woke up way too early as usual to get ready. For a moment I think he's about to throw them both to me so I can practice in dual dao fashion, but he tosses me just one. I barely have time to grab the stick before it hits me on the head. "Why not both?" I ask.

"You can't even block with one yet. What makes you think you've got enough coordination to master two at once? Learn to control yourself first. Then you can worry about controlling more swords."

I'm already rolling my eyes at the lesson when I see he's smiling. He beckons playfully with one hand. An invitation. My lunge is an acceptance, but as always he easily deflects the blow. We spin around in a flurry of swinging sticks and smacking wood. I can't tell if he's letting me almost hit him on purpose or if I'm started to understand how to play this game of swords.

I've already collected a new assortment of bruises when I hear my brother yell.

"Sokka!" I shout. Zuko and I bolt for his bedroom. I keep my stick. My friend draws his swords. We come in running, weapons raised, looking around for someone to fight—

"Katara, guess what," my brother calls. He and Toph are down together on their shared mat.

I'm beside them in an instant. "What happened, what?"

"I almost moved my toe this morning! I've got some feeling back in it and everything. I think I'm getting my legs back." He's grinning like he just beat the Fire Lord, but I guess his is a huge victory in itself.

"Are you kidding?" Zuko snaps, sheathing his weapons. "We thought you were in serious trouble."

Suddenly it occurs to me that I ran in here thinking I could take out real threat with a piece of wood. Genius. I lay my makeshift sword on the ground and push it away with my toe. I push it twice. "Uh . . . well. I'm glad you guys are safe."

Sokka glances between us. "Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

"Yeah, Snoozles. They were about to make out and now you ruined the moment," Toph says. I'm about to protest when I realize she's dead serious and barely even surprised. In fact, the only person she grins at is my brother. "See?" she tells him. "You'll have to pay up when I win our bet."

My hands go to my hips. "Bet?"

Toph beams. "We know. You'll find out."

"If this is about me and Zuko, you should know I'm going on a date with Aang tomorrow night."

The moment I say that, I shut my mouth. I want to catch the words and trap them back down in my throat, but they're out in the open now. Rumor has it that a good way to know how someone really feels about you is to focus on their eyes in the first five seconds of a gaze. What you see there is real. I look at Zuko and see an expression I've seen only once before. It was during one of those moments in life you can never get over no matter how hard you try. It was the moment when he was in the warm pool water and I tried to freeze him into the creek.

Like before, Zuko's eyes are fastened on mine.

Like before, there's nothing within them but an ocean of hurt.

"Oh," he says. _Oh_, and that is all. He looks away for a moment, and when he looks back the hurt is gone. Inside is nothing but hard resolve. Bitter, cold acceptance. "I guess we'll both be out to dinner."

"I guess we will," I say.

He turns to go. "I hope you enjoy your evening."

"You, too."

Zuko collects my stick off the ground and stalks back into the living room. Toph crosses her arms. My brother looks at her as if expecting something or handing over the spotlight. "Smooth move," she tells me.

"What? Am I not allowed to have a date if he does? I like Aang."

"Sure you do."

"Toph, listen—"

"And what date?" she asks, cutting me off.

Oh. Right. She hasn't heard the whole Jin story yet. "Zuko's uncle set him up with the girl we met yesterday in the tea shop."

She rolls her eyes. "Really? Really, Sugar Queen? Fine. If you're that thick, you can go have a nice day out with Twinkletoes. You can throw sugar and 'sweetie' lines at each other until we all get diabetes."

"There's nothing wrong with liking Aang," I growl. I turn around in a huff and stalk out.

"Yeah, if only you did," she calls after me.

Zuko is nowhere to be found in the living room. I check the kitchen, but it's just Aang in there. He's feeding Momo some bits of leftover pastry. "Good morning," he says as soon as he spots me. "I thought I heard yelling. That's what woke me up."

"I'm going out for the day," I grumble. "I'll meet you guys at the tea shop for lunch before our trip to the palace."

"Can I come with you, please?"

"I'll be fine."

He tugs at his orange shawl. "But last time—"

I hug him. "I'll stay in the upper ring where it's safe. I promise."

"Well . . . at least take Momo." He transfers the lemur to my shoulder. "I'll feel better if someone's looking out for you."

His smile reminds me why I agreed to our dinner date. Momo and I go down the steps to the house. For a moment I'm half-expected Joo Dee to spring out from behind a shrub, but she's probably busy with other things. Maybe even with looking for Jet and his Freedom Fighters. She sure seemed worried about them at the monorail station.

"What do you think we should do?" I ask my companion. Momo nips on my hair loopy in response. "And what's that supposed to mean, huh?"

But as the lemur has decided to be exceptionally unhelpful, I just find a tree to enjoy some cooling shade. I sit between two gnarled roots and lean back against the trunk. Leaves whisper way above me. Clouds and the sun roll across the sky. I pull out my two swords and carefully turn the shining blades over in my hands. Names, that's what they need. I've got a sword for my left hand and one for my right, a sword close to my heart and one for power strikes with my dominant hand. I toy with the idea of calling them Tui and La because of my water tribe heritage, but something about that feels too contrived. Zuko's names were so much more personal. I think back to how we created these swords together and of the circumstances now driving us apart. He'll be on a date with Jin, I'll be on a date with Aang, but was that ocean of hurt in his eyes a hint I'm supposed to pick up on? If he feels for me what I feel for him, could we make something of these embers that have burned through our icy facades?

The leaves rustle again. A whisper seems to come to me across a very great distance. It carries two words and breathes them into my heart. I look down at the swords in my lap and know their true names.

"Guess it wasn't a totally wasted morning," I tell Momo. He's snoozing on my shoulder. I gently give him a scratch behind the ears and lay him down on the grass. Sheathing the swords, I break off a branch from the tree and spend the rest of the morning practicing different strike angles. The tree trunk is my opponent. Each smack of wood makes me feel like I'm really getting this. Like pretty soon I'll be as good as Zuko.

Well. Maybe just _almost _as good.

Toward early afternoon, I'm starving. Momo and I head for the tea shop. I need to catch up with Iroh and get details on tonight's plan. By the time I get there, though, the rest of the team is already having lunch. Aang and Sokka wave when I come in. Between wolfing down huge chunks of meat, Toph bobs her head to acknowledge my presence. Zuko doesn't even turn around. He focuses on eating single grains of rice at a time with his chopsticks.

"Ah, finally! We are all gathered," Iroh says. "Let's go to the back to discuss tonight's party—after you have something to eat," he adds quickly, noting my crestfallen expression.

Zuko stands the minute I set down. He disappears into the back. Toph wheels Sokka's stone throne, as she's taken to calling it, into the back as well. Only Aang and I are left at the table. He watches me while I eat.

"You don't know what's wrong with Zuko, do you?" he asks.

"What am I, his keeper?"

"No, just . . . he's been keeping to himself all day. That's normal for the Zuko we knew before he joined the team, not for our friend."

"If he's back in depression mode, that's not our problem."

He leans back. "Katara. That's not like you to say. Did something happen between you guys?"

"We're _fine_." I push my plate away. "Let's go talk to Iroh."

Before he can argue, I head for the back of the shop. I wish I, at least, knew what was happening between us. Instead we're just two hotheads angry at I don't even know what. _Deep breaths_, I tell myself. Let's just get through tonight and we'll deal with tomorrow when we get there.

My friends are all crowded and waiting in the tea-smelling back room. Iroh is handing out simple brown and green server uniforms. He stuffs one into my arms, too. "You will be wearing these to avoid suspicion. Your task is simple: deliver the tea and pour cups for guests. Aang"—he gestures to the airbender who followed behind me—"you will sneak away to find the Earth King once we are inside."

Even though we're all holding uniforms, Iroh still has one extra draped over his shoulder. I grin. "Is that for Momo?"

"I think it's for me."

A stick smacked right in the chest wouldn't have knocked out my breath more efficiently. I turn and see Jin beaming in the doorway. "There you are," Iroh says, waving her inside. "Come on in."

"What's _she_ doing here?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"I was looking for work. This man generously offered me a job as a server," she explains, taking her uniform. "I hear we'll be catering a party tonight."

"Uncle." Zuko pins Iroh under a glare. "I think we need to talk."

"Of course we do—_after_ tonight's event. There is so much to cook and gallons of tea to brew and so little time left. Jin, Katara—would you young ladies come help me?"

"I'd love to," she says. "Is there a place where I can change?"

Iroh ushers everyone out but Jin and I. "You two can change here. We men will use a different room."

"And what am I?" Toph asks, though you can hear the pride in her voice at the old man's jest. She'd rather be called a man than a girly-girl any day.

"_You_ and your friend Sokka will be taking care of business back here while the rest of us go to the palace."

My brother bangs his fists on the wheelchair arms. "What?! Are you serious? You can't leave me out of _all_ the fun stuff."

"In your condition—"

"I don't have a _condition_. I can't believe this." Sokka throws up his arms. "It's totally unfair!"

"Uncle knows what he's doing," Zuko says in defense. "Come on. Let's just get changed."

Jin and I glance at one another. She tries to make small talk, but after two curt replies on my part we lapse into silence. We stand in separate corners with our backs facing each other. The longer we're there together, the more I feel like a socially awkward turtle duck. I end up going extra slowly so she's done first and can leave. Then I stand there staring at the wall, my eyes boring a hole right through it, and reason with myself. Whoever I'm acting like, it's definitely not the strong Katara I've learned to be after years of pressure and pain. So Jin is going to help us. So, what? Who cares who Zuko likes or doesn't like? We're in the middle of a war, anyway. There are way more important things to focus on, like the Earth King. Like the eclipse and the Fire Nation. I shake my head to clear it of the complete stupidity that is worrying about Zuko and Jin.

The rest of the afternoon plays out in a relative lull. We help Iroh serve customers. I don't let myself get bothered by the glances Jin sneaks at Zuko. Or the glances, two or three of them, he returns with uncertainty. In the early evening, three royal ostrich horse carriages pull up in front of the tea shop. Guards help us load the carriages with tea and platters of food. I climb into one of the carriages after Zuko, Jin, and Aang. Iroh and Toph wave us off. I look back at the tea shop doorway where my brother sits dejectedly in his wheelchair. He's ripping at my heartstrings with his sad eyes. But if he's getting feeling back in his legs, it shouldn't last much longer. Tomorrow I'll try to scour the city for more powerful oils.

For now, it's time to focus on the Earth King and make our long journey to this city worthwhile.

We don't speak much because of the guard riding in the carriage with us. Iroh doesn't trust the government officials around here and warned us to stay quiet. I know the journey is at an end when the carriages roll to a smooth halt. More guards escort us inside a vast hall in the palace where servers from other fine shops around the city are also setting up platters. Some of the early guests have started to arrive, so we each take either a tray of pastries or a teapot to fulfill our server roles.

"I'm starting to think the Earth King won't be that easy to find," I whisper to Aang after about half an hour.

He pours a cup of tea for a guest wearing a tall hat that goes up in the air and keeps going. "Not really. We just have to look for the person who looks really _royal_."

A cluster of women wearing glittering robes and jewelry worth more than my whole village walks past me. "That's pretty much everyone."

As the room starts to fill up with more people, Aang glances around. "I think we lost Zuko and Jin," he says.

I almost drop the teapot I'm holding. "What?!"

"Oh. Never mind. They're over there, see?"

I follow Aang's hand gesture. There they are indeed a short distance off, offering platters of pastries to a couple. Jin says something I can't make out above the din of the crowd, but the man and woman laugh. Zuko smiles and glances not unkindly at his companion.

I wind through a congregation of women to join them. "Don't go wandering off. We're supposed to stick together," I remind them.

"You weren't having luck finding the Earth King over there, were you?" Zuko snaps.

Jin playfully bumps the firebender with her shoulder. "Come on, Lee. Don't be mean to your friend."

"Who?" I ask instinctively before remembering who this _Lee_ guy is supposed to be.

We're saved from potentially unpleasant fallout by a gasp from behind us. "What are you doing here?" calls our lovely babysitter's voice. Joo Dee rushes over. She tries to grab the teapot out of my hands. "You have to leave immediately or we'll all be in terrible trouble."

"No one's going anywhere until we see the Earth King," Zuko tells her.

"You don't understand," Joo Dee starts to say, but Jin cuts her off with a hand wave.

"Guys, listen," Jin says. "I know it's not really any of my business, but can someone explain why this is such a big deal? If it's going to be a problem—"

I can't believe Iroh thought bringing a stranger into this mess was a good idea. Sometimes I wonder if he's still the same man we met before we were separated at the library. "We'll explain later—"

"You must go," Joo Dee insists, ignoring all of us. She makes a grab for my teapot again, but I step backwards out of reach. Unfortunately, I step right into cold hands that grip my shoulders.

"Pardon," a voice says behind me. I spin around to see a man dressed as a government official standing behind us . . . along with a trio of Dai Li agents. His eyes cut to Joo Dee, who bows quickly, and then back to us. "I am Long Feng, Grand Secretary of Ba Sing Se and head of the Dai Li. It is a great honor to meet the Avatar and his friends in the _palace _halls." His tone seems to imply we've got no business here.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Aang says. "We're just here to speak with the Earth King. Could you show us the way?"

His eyes flicker. "Come with me."

Aang and I exchange eager looks. Okay, maybe it's a bit unsettling that everyone around here automatically knows Aang's the Avatar. But it's getting us to the Earth King, right? I'm distracted by the sound of a tray clattering to the ground. Jin's face is glowing. "We're going to meet the actual Earth King?" she breathes.

Long Feng bows to her. "My apologies, but perhaps you should stay here and fulfill the service you were hired to complete. You two as well," he adds, nodding first at me and then at Zuko.

The firebender steps forward. "We're coming with the Avatar."

Long Feng smiles as the Dai Li agents behind him take equally menacing forward steps. "No harm will come to your friend if that's what you fear, I assure you. Ba Sing Se knows how to take care of its guests. I will return him safely back here in half an hour."

Zuko looks hard at Aang. The airbender looks down at the floor, but already we all know what has to happen. Probably this Grand Secretary guy just doesn't want to overwhelm the Earth King with so many visitors at once. Plus, the rest of us are just kids. The Avatar is the only one with any real value in royal eyes.

"Okay, I'll go alone," Aang says. He smiles. "Don't worry. I'll see you guys in a bit."

The Grand Secretary leads Aang away, but the three Dai Li agents don't follow. They watch us take fresh trays and teapots. Apparently we won't be allowed to sneak off after Aang as I'd originally hoped.

"So he's the Avatar," Jin says. "Would you look at that? Pretty impressive."

There's definitely something up. Why would Iroh send this stranger along with us instead of Toph or Sokka, both of whom are perfectly capable of helping? I don't know how much we can trust her with. Certainly Iroh can't possibly think we need a new addition to the team.

"Hopefully he'll be back soon," I say. "Meantime, let's just make sure we keep these guys satisfied with our service." I wave a hand at the Dai Li agents.

Zuko's face says _I don't like this_, but his silence lets me know he'll play along with this game for now. We continue to pour tea and distribute pastries. Jin keeps asking us harmless questions: how we got here, where we're going, how we like the city. Zuko and I take turns deflecting the impromptu interview with vague answers that don't tell her more than she needs to know.

"So, uh . . . where do you live?" I ask, trying to turn the tides.

"In the lower ring," she admits, confirming what I suspected. For her to get to the upper ring tea shop, someone must have invited her here.

"Do you live with your parents?"

Her hands tighten on a tray. She looks down. "It's just me and Tayla, my younger sister. I look out for both of us."

Zuko looks at her with a softened gaze. "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "Hey, no problem. We've been on our own for a while. We're tough girls. We get along just fine when I've got a good job. I actually owe your uncle big time," she tells him. "He talked to the boss of his tea shop and negotiated a great pay for me."

"How did you guys meet?" I ask.

"It was on a monorail car," she explains. "See, we were—"

"There's Aang!" Zuko says suddenly, distracting all of us. It takes a single look to know something is terribly wrong. The airbender's face is the color of death.

He takes small, slow steps towards us. His words say _I think they've got Appa_ but his moist eyes tell me it's worse, so much worse, than just that. We collect our trays and teapots as the guests clear for the evening. It's a nervous ride back to the tea shop since another guard is watching us, mostly silent and only broken by my small whispers of _it's okay, you're safe, we'll figure this out_. I say these words but don't believe them because he's shaking, he's shaking against my shoulder, and his eyes are distant and glazed.

Iroh looks up the moment we cross the threshold. There are no customers tonight, so no curious eyes follow us as we move across the vast flood of empty space between the door and the counter. Without questioning, without hesitation, Iroh gestures to the back of the shop. We go inside where Toph and Sokka are waiting. They stop a card game when Aang stumbles into the room and slides down the wall to sit on the floor with a small _plop_.

He doesn't care that Jin is listening.

He doesn't care that he keeps forgetting Zuko is supposed to be called Lee while we're in the city.

He simply speaks.

We learn that the Grand Secretary is grander than we expected because apparently he's running the show and the Earth King is just a puppet whose duties are tied to issues of cultural heritage. That so far as the people of the city know—and at this, Jin gasps—there is no escalating war beyond Ba Sing Se. This is a place of peace, an orderly utopia. The last one of its kind in the whole world. Within the walls of the city, the people are safe. Within the walls of the city, the people are free—prisoners only to the lies of the Dai Li.

We sit for a few moments in silence. Then, unbidden, we rise to go.

Jin parts with us at the entrance to the tea shop to go home; she whispers something about needing to take care of Tayla. The rest of us minus Iroh stumble homeward, weighed down by news I can barely believe. I follow Aang into his room and lie down to sleep on my mat. We roll so we're facing away from one another because what is there to say? A while passes before I drift off to rest, but when I open my eyes again I'm no longer in Ba Sing Se.

I'm back in the warm beach house from my dream.

The room is still dusty, still bare of furniture. The long-haired man I don't know is brushing my hair with his red comb. It seems regally carved, probably expensive. He pauses when he sees I'm watching. His golden eyes rest on mine. They are so much like Zuko's. Everything about this man is like Zuko, only for want of a scar. For a moment I think he might even be the young firebender as an adult, but his face is more angular than that of the boy I know. And this man's beard looks like a tail hanging off his chin. If this were older Zuko, surely I'd have frozen it off by now.

Suddenly the man sets down the comb and leans forward. He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close so that I'm pressed against the warmth of his red and black robes sewn with gold. There's something wet on my cheeks that I recognize as tears, though I don't know how they got there. Nor do I understand why he's hugging me, but something about the gesture seems important.

I don't pull away and let us stay embraced together in that lonely and abandoned place.

_A/N: (Edit: You guys are killing me. Does no one have theories on the final three paragraphs? *Snaps fingers* Daangit, I was hoping you guys would be intrigued.) Well, anyway, it's been a pretty interesting ride so far, but the companion story information on my profile page should be enough for you to realize we haven't even reached the most groundbreaking part of the story (and primarily the reason I started writing this fanfiction to begin with). *Holds up box of fireflakes* Have a treat for your feedback? _


	26. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 5

_A/N: *Wipes away tear* Well, this is definitely the last time we'll be meeting for a good while since college begins on August 29 (but at least it's the longest chapter yet!). Regular updates will resume in December over winter break, so aside from maybe one or two spontaneous updates the only thing you'll hear from me between now and then is updates on my profile page so you guys know I'll be coming back for sure. I'm going to cry in a corner now because I'll miss you, my faithful readers, so much. Here. *Hands spotlight over to Sokka and Toph* You two take over for this chapter while I sob. _

_Toph: You got it, sweetness. *Strokes chin while using seismic sense on Zuko and Jin* I can feel what's happening. _

_Sokka: What? _

_Toph: And they don't have a clue._

_Sokka: Who?_

_Toph: They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line, Zutara's done for good. _

_Sokka: Oh. _

_Toph: *Sarcasm* The sweet caress of twilight. There's magic everywhere. And with all this romantic atmosphere, disaster's in the air . . ._

You'd think that Zuko would at least let us all sleep in after last night's disappointment with the Earth King, but then you'd remember it's _Zuko_ we're talking about here. The boy who would have driven us to death from exhaustion in the desert isn't going to let some bad news keep us from sword practice.

"_What_?" I groan when he shakes me awake.

"You know what," he says.

"No, please. Come on. We can train tomorrow—"

"We're training right now. Get up."

I roll onto my stomach and press my nose into the mat. It doesn't smell like much of anything, but maybe that's because the strongest scent coming across my senses right now is a memory. Already my dream is fading, and it seems that the more I try to hold the pieces together the more quickly they trickle through my fingers like cupped water in a nonbender's hands. I can't quite coax the strange man's face into view, but everything else has a certain sharpness. Like his hair, black and generous. Like his arms, warm and safe around me. Like the grief I felt rolling off him in waves, an undeniable loss somehow mediated by my presence.

Zuko pokes me with a stick. "Katara."

I grunt into the mat but push up to my hands and knees. "Okay, okay. I'm up. I'm up."

I leave my sheathed swords lying where I left them last night by my mat. As we cross the room, I glance over at Aang sleeping peacefully. I think how the Avatar is the spirit of the planet incarnated in human form and hesitate on this one thought: spirit. Maybe the man is no dream but a premonition, a spirit vision meant to somehow guide me.

If only I could figure out who he was.

As Zuko and I circle around each other in a fresh flurry of spinning sticks in the living room, I think to the memory of the strongest scent I've ever know. When I very small, I would raise my arms up to my mother. She would pick me up and hold me like I was the most precious thing in the world, and the moment she touched me I was wrapped up in her smell. I've carried her scent, her warmth, her love with me across all these years, and in the man's arms I somehow felt not that same smell but the same precision of a scent. The kind I wish I had from my father if only he'd been home and not at war for most of my life.

A stick suddenly cracks across my back. I drop to my knees with a gasp and stay there panting, trying to restore air to my lungs. "Oh, that was necessary," I snap.

"You were distracted. Again. As always." He offers me a hand that I refuse. We face off again, both breathing hard. As I get better, he's forced to be on more conscious guard at all times.

"I had a weird dream."

"I bet you did," he says.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He comes at me with a swing I meet halfway. We're trapped into a stand-off, his makeshift sword locked firmly against mine. "Imagining your date with Aang and how that's going to go?"

This is closer to a confession than anything I would have expected from Zuko. "Oh, is that bothering you?"

"No." He shoves me back and spins around, connecting with my legs and knocking me flat on my back. "But I don't think I'm wrong."

I push back up to my feet and raise my stick. "You and Aang aren't all I think about."

He smiles. "_Me_ and Aang?" I take a swipe at his head. He ducks with a forward roll and rises behind me. Before I can turn to meet him, his stick is pressed against my throat. "I win," he says, his voice a dangerous whisper.

"You don't win everything," I tell him.

He takes a step back and lets the stick drop to his side. "I wish I did."

"Yeah, you're so used to getting everything you want. Huh, prince?"

Zuko's knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the makeshift sword. "That's not funny! You have _no_ idea what my life was like."

"Maybe I'd know if you'd just tell me! You're great at keeping secrets, but guess what? I can't read your mind. Unless I drill you with questions, you don't tell me _anything_." He's looking down at the floor, his mouth a thin line, but he needs to hear this. "Yeah, one time you told me your father gave you that scar," I go on. "Then later you told me about that Agni Kai you fought when you challenged a general at a war meeting. You made it sound like you fought the general, but it's your father you fought, wasn't it?" His fists are shaking, but I've gotten too worked up to quit now. "I bet you didn't have the best childhood, but I can't know things about you if you don't tell me," I say. "Maybe I want to hear about your life, about your family, about _you_, but you're too busy hiding inside your own cold shell to share your life with anyone—"

Zuko drops his stick and suddenly grabs my wrists. He pulls me forward to close the distance between us. "_Katara_," he says with great force to shut me up, and suddenly I can't speak. It's like a flashback to the moment when he told me _I'll save you from the pirates _before taking me hostage. I can feel his breath on my face, see the glow of his golden eyes. There's a distant clatter I register as my own stick dropping to join his somewhere on the floor, but right now I'm channeling my attention into a single point of focus: his face.

"What?" I ask. It's the only word I can manage.

For a moment he says nothing, but then he breathes my name into the space between us. _Katara_, he says, and as he does so I feel like I'm taking my deepest dive into a boundless ocean. It feels like I'm going under and might never come up for breath, and so my lungs are swelling to burst with trapped air. There's nothing between us but tenderness, nothing but tenderness rippled with grief. And suddenly I _know_ that I'm on the verge of the truth at the heart of this great sadness. If we stay this way for another moment, just _one _more moment, I'll very objectively realize that my feelings for Zuko can be defined by a single word passed along thousands of years from the first time when two people were trapped in an alone situation with just one another for company.

"Zuko," I whisper, fighting for that one word. "I . . . uh . . ."

Suddenly he blinks as if registering our proximity. He lets me go and takes a step back, runs his hand over his hair as a tinge of red edges into his cheeks, and leans down to collect our weapons and probably to collect himself. Because one stick rolled under the table, he's forced down on his knees to reach for it. As I watch him grope under the table, my resolve flakes right off. By the time he surfaces, the moment has passed. Now we're just standing there in the living room like two idiots holding pieces of wood.

"Uh . . . think I could finally try with two sticks?" I ask, trying to diffuse the unbearable silence.

He drops our weapons on the table. "I think we've done enough," he says to the table since right now he's refusing to look at me. "I need to see my uncle this morning before business gets busy."

"But that's the one trick I've wanted to learn since the beginning," I complain to his retreating back as he crosses the room.

"You'll learn when you're ready."

"And why not right now?" I ask, but I'm really voicing two questions. "I'm ready," I say, and really I'm giving him two answers.

He hesitates in the doorway. Possibly he's understood the two things I'm trying to tell him, both about the swords and about us, but this new Zuko's not the kind of person to go back on a promise. Ever. Not even one to a stranger he barely knows. "I'll see you at lunch," he says coolly. "And I'll teach you when you realize it's not a _trick_ but a technique. Tricks are cheap. Techniques are hard to learn and tough to master"—he half-turns so he's looking at me over his shoulder—"but when you get there, when you're _really_ ready, you've taken a worthy road."

And then he's gone, leaving me to wonder which question of mine he was addressing.

"You know he likes you."

I whip around. Toph is standing in the doorway to her room with Sokka. She targets me with a wicked grin.

"Has the self-appointed love guru come to give me advice?" I grumble. Although, come to think of it, she's the only one among all of us who's with the person she's had a crush on from the beginning. Maybe she does know some tricks—er, techniques—that I could learn from.

"If you had feet like mine to get a reading on his heart rate, you'd know I'm right."

I feel like kicking the table. "Then _why_ is he going on a date with Jin?"

"Well, why are you going on a date with Aang?"

"It's _not_ a date. It's a dinner."

"Oh," she says. "Well, then it's not a _date_ with Jin. It's a _dinner_."

"Ugh!" I stalk into the kitchen, seething. "I need to wash something," I say, grabbing a clean plate from the kitchen table and scrubbing it with my bending water.

Toph follows me inside. "Do you need me to lay this out in simple words you can understand?"

I keep scrubbing the plate. "Don't you have anything else to do?"

"It's obvious Zuko likes you," she continues, totally ignoring me. "For all I know, he might even love you."

I feel like I need to touch the wall with both hands just to keep the room from spinning. I set down the plate before it drops from my shaking hands. "Toph. People don't just fall in love like that. We were enemies. He hated me."

"And now you're friends, and guess what? I heard something smart once that might help you." She leans against the table. "Every person has two sides, one that's good and the other not so much. If you know someone as your friend, that's great, but the only way to know who they really are is to see them as your enemy, too. It's only once you've known someone as an enemy and as a friend that you can know them whole."

It takes me a moment to process this is _Toph_ speaking. "Who told you that?"

"A man who gave me tea and some good advice," she says.

I brace my hands against the table. She's standing there with her face turned my way, giving me a chance to consider this wisdom. I look back down at the table. "But if that's true and he likes me, why doesn't he say anything?"

Suddenly there's a howl from Sokka's room. We run inside to see him sitting up, grabbing his pants and gasping as if half his leg just got cut off. "What happened?" I ask, getting down beside him.

"Pins," he moans.

"Huh?" Toph says, but I know exactly what he means.

"Pins and needles, right?" I check his spine where I can still feel the swelling, though it's definitely gone way down. "Sokka, that's great! Your legs are starting to wake up."

He flops back over on his mat. "Come on, sis. Can't you do something?"

"Toph and I can go out to the city and find better oil for your back. The faster we can get the swelling down, the sooner you'll be okay."

"So you're just going to leave me dying here alone?"

I roll my eyes. "Toph can stay with you while I get the oil, but I figured you two have been spending enough time together. I kind of wanted this to be a girl's day out."

"Excuse me?" Toph asks, gaping.

"You heard me. I'll be back in an hour. Then we're going out for some serious pampering."

"You're kidding, right?" Toph calls as I slip back out into the living room.

Aang's still asleep, so I leave a note on my mat letting him know where I've gone. One of the things he mentioned last night is that Dai Li agents will apparently be monitoring our every move. With that kind of babysitting, I almost except an agent to pop out of the bushes as I go down the steps, but no one shows up to stop me. We'll be watched for sure, but the Dai Li are more covert than Joo Dee. It occurs to me that I haven't seen her since the Earth King's party. However annoying she might have been, I hope she didn't actually get into trouble.

There are plenty of shops in the middle ring that cater to customers seeking healing oils. I pick out a bottle that seems promising and head straight home to make it back before lunch. There are a couple things I need to discuss with Toph, especially since it seems like she's been talking to Iroh. And who knows Zuko better than his own uncle?

When I get back, she's giving my brother's legs a massage to rub out that terrible pins and needles sensation. She can't see it of course, but he's giving her a gaze that lets me know it's no longer just friendship between them.

"Toph, mind finding Aang and telling him you and I are going out?" I ask as I kneel next to my brother.

"I still can't tell if you're kidding," she says, but she leaves me along with Sokka.

I scoot over so I have clear access to his back. "So?" I ask as I rub the oil into the swelling.

"So, what?"

"Hmm . . . what was that thing you asked me on the _Titan_? Oh. Right." I clear my throat and cross my arms in my best Sokka imitation. "Now, explain."

"Explain what?"

"You and Toph."

"Me and Toph—hey, hold on! That was totally different. You and Zuko were_ this_ close"—he holds up his hand so there's an inch of space between his thumb and index finger—"to making out on the dance floor. She's just my friend."

"Yeah, sure. She might be blind, but the rest of us see things just fine. Besides, you can't hide your heartbeat from her feet."

He grabs the oil bottle from me. "I think I can finish myself," he mumbles, though he seems more embarrassed than angry.

"Hey," I say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm just saying. I think she really likes you back."

Sokka looks down at his hands. "You think so?"

I grin. "We're having a girl's day out for a reason. I'll find out for you."

"Well . . . if you want. I don't really care. Just out of interest, you know?" Of course, his tone lets me know he very much cares indeed.

I leave him alone with the bottle and go searching for Toph in the living room and kitchen. She and Aang are both leaning against the table, her looking bored and him looking glum. "What'd she do now?" I ask.

"Toph said you guys were leaving for the rest of the day," he says.

"I'll meet you at the tea shop around sunset. Don't worry." I smile and squeeze his hand. "I haven't forgotten. We're going out to get ready for tonight."

I leave him beaming in my wake but inside I'm crumbling. Real friends should tell each other the truth even when it hurts. How I can leave Aang believing that I've got my heart set out on him when every moment only widens the distance between us and washes me ever closer to Zuko? It's nothing the airbender did or didn't do, no fault of his or of mine that things have turned out as they have. The heart sees what is invisible to the mind and eye.

As Toph and I go down the steps, I think again of the man from my dreams. Maybe there's some bond between us that the spirits are also trying to help me see. I don't want to worry my friends about it just yet, so I decide I won't say anything unless the vision comes a third time. For now, I need to focus on this day with the earthbender.

We visit something called the Fancy Lady Day Spa where we get mud baths, freak the attendants out with some fancy facial earthbending, and warm up in a steamy sauna. There's a boutique section with Earth Kingdom dresses of the kind I saw last night at the party, which gives me an idea. I part with some more of our money to buy us fans and dresses. The attendants tie our hair around head dresses decorated with flowers. Toph sneezes at the makeup as it's slowly painted onto our faces.

"How does it feel to be girly?" I tease as an attendant wheels over a mirror.

"Well . . . not so bad, actually. Kinda good," she admits.

"I'm glad. It's about time we did something fun together—oh."

"What?" she asks, but I'm lost in the shock of seeing my own reflection. I peer into the mirror, trying to see myself under the makeup and fancy garb. I'm Katara, sure enough, but for the first time I feel like a beautiful woman and not just a plain tribal girl. Maybe even the kind of woman for whom a former prince might feel inclined to openly confess affectation.

"You think being pretty will get Zuko to like you more?" she asks as if reading my mind.

I blush fiercely. "It can't hurt to look fancy for dinner."

We stroll back out into the warm streets of Ba Sing Se. The afternoon sun rolling towards evening gives me a good estimate of the time. "We probably need to start heading back to the tea shop," I tell her.

We cross a stone bridge over a creek. I stop and lean on the railing at the top to think back to the last time I walked over a bridge with a river running beneath. I remember hating how complicated things got once Zuko joined the team and how complicated things still are between me and him and Aang.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Toph asks, leaning on the railing beside me.

I sigh through my nose. "You know."

"Yeah, I do." We stand there for a moment before she turns her face toward me. "But he's not going to say anything to you until you say something first."

"So you're an expert in all matters Zuko?"

"Kind of. We've been talking a lot."

I look down at the river. "About what kinds of things?"

"Stuff in general. We got into the whole love thing because he needed some advice on finding Mai in the city. He says they're friends from childhood, plus they kinda had crushes on each other back then."

Well, that's great. So apparently Zuko has no issues whatsoever spilling his life story to Toph. "Hopefully they'll meet up," I say dryly.

She punches me in the shoulder. "Are you listening? I said they _had_ crushes. He hasn't seen her in years and just wants to catch up. I didn't say they're still drooling over each other."

"Maybe they are."

"Maybe you need to realize he's had a messed-up life. His dad hates him, his mom left him, his sister's some genius prodigy so he's always lived in her shadow—"

I straighten up. "What?"

"Sparky says his dad thinks his sister was born lucky and he was lucky to be born. Kind of a sucky life if you ask me."

"You said his mom _left_ him?"

"How about you ask him yourself," she suggests.

"Yeah, _great_ conversation starter."

We head down the bridge and point ourselves in the direction of the tea shop. "Point is, he's not going to say he likes you because he might lose your friendship if you don't like him back. He can't risk that," she says. "He needs some kind of support system. Right now, that's us."

"So . . . you're saying I should make the first move?"

She grins. "Unless you're fine if he makes out with Jin."

While I'm trying to work out a clever comeback, she reaches the tea shop and goes inside. I follow her through the doorway and glance around for Aang and our other friends. He and Sokka are probably still back at the house. Iroh's serving a customer, and our corner table is currently occupied by a young couple and their daughter—

Wait.

_No. _

But, indeed, it's a couple I recognize all too well. Jin, dressed in her server uniform, is giggling next to a blushing Zuko. The little girl sitting on his lap is scribbling something on a scroll rolled out on the table.

"See, this is you," I hear her say. "And _this_"—she doodles something else—"is my sister." As Toph and I come over, I see clearly that it's a picture of two people holding hands and smiling. The three of them look up when I clear my throat. "Hi! I'm Tayla," the child announces without hesitation. "I'm five-and-a-half years old. Who are you?"

"Katara? _Toph?_" Zuko asks, glancing between us. I think he's trying to search for his friends under the makeup, too.

"Well, look at you. You guys look beautiful," Jin says. Her smile is echoed by her eyes, letting me know it's a sincere compliment.

"We wanted to share some quality time. Plus I want to look good for dinner tonight," I tell them.

Jin nods. "Zuko told me you were going on a date with the Avatar."

Well, that's that. Thanks to Aang babbling off without stopping to think last night, now she knows the firebender's real name. I wonder how much longer it'll be before she realizes who he really is—if she hasn't figured it out already.

"Yep. Should be fun."

Zuko's gaze has returned to me. They linger on my hair, dress, face. He smiles. "I'm sure Aang will appreciate the trouble you went through for him, but you probably didn't have to. You're beautiful just the way you usually are."

Now the blush is in _my_ cheeks. "Uh . . . thanks," I say slowly.

Tayla tugs on Zuko's sleeve. "I think you look better in red than green," she says matter-of-factly. "Can I give you red robes?"

He glances at Jin for help. She nods encouragingly. "You're the artist," he says gently, wrapping the child in an embrace. "If you like red, I guess I'll have to buy some red."

"Good! Then your robes can match your face," Tayla says, poking his scar with her brush.

For a moment he looks totally lost, and I guess he might be since he's probably never had experience dealing with children before. For me, playing with Tayla would be second nature since I helped raise half the village back in the South Pole. But then Zuko smiles, and when he does there's something new in his face I've never seen before. His eyes hold something genuinely peaceful brushed with a touch of shyness. It's a look of complete comfort, complete happiness.

Jin touches his hand, and in the way he looks at her I realize it's a happiness he's found in the presence of this small and broken family.

"Well congrats, sis. I think you broke Aang."

My brother's voice from behind takes me by surprise. I turn to see the airbender standing there in the doorway with a blank expression of awe. His mouth slowly stretches into a radiant smile as he dreamily gazes at me.

Sokka rolls past me on his wheelchair. "Geez, what did you do to Toph? And I think my toes are working," he says. "But the pins aren't much better.

"See? I told you you'll get better soon," I say, glad to see my brother finally getting back on his feet. Well, almost.

"K-Katara," Aang stutters. "You're . . . wow . . . you're beautiful."

I take his hand and lead him out of the tea shop. I wave back at my friends. "We'll see you guys later back at the house!" Right now, I need to get out of there so I don't have to admit to myself how much it hurts to see Zuko looking at Jin in that way.

"We need to walk this way. Sokka and I went all over the city looking for a place to eat," Aang says. "We found a good spot in the middle ring."

"Hmm," I reply absentmindedly.

He looks around as if searching for something. "Hey, wait here a second," he tells me, dashing inside a shop.

While he's gone, a few oogling boys pass me. Now I'm starting to think I'm way overdressed for the occasion. The makeup on my face somehow makes me feel fake. At least I'm finally fitting into a city where I'm starting to feel all the government officials are just as phony about trying to help us.

A single potted flower suddenly appears in front of my face. "Here you go," Aang says, beaming.

"What is this?" I ask, taking the pot. It's some kind of black-and-white flower I've never seen.

"It's a panda lily," he explains shyly. "They're pretty rare and really special symbols. I had to look around the whole city to find someone who sells them. I paid for it this morning so the owner would hold it for me until I came here with you."

"It's . . . beautiful."

"Like you."

He's gazing at me with hopeful eyes. I try to remember if I've heard that flower name anywhere before. "Thank you," I tell him as we continue down the road.

As the late afternoon cools into evening, we come to a town square in the middle ring. Aang points to a patio restaurant where we take our seats. He orders some kind of salad while I go with a bowl of noodles. The evening air is cool and refreshing. A few early stars glimmer at us from way up as we eat.

"This place really is great," I tell him.

"Sokka said he's planning to take Toph here, too."

I slurp down a mouthful. "I knew they're totally into each other!"

He glances at the panda lily pot I set on the table next to my plate. "It might even grow into love one day."

I scoop up some more noodles with my chopsticks. "Hey, I've got a question for you."

"Sure, anything."

"There's something that hasn't made sense to me yet. When you saved me from those thugs, you used firebending. Why didn't you tell me you were learning? How come I never saw you practice?"

He looks down at the table. "I-I guess . . . I just wanted to impress you," he confesses. "I thought learning to firebend might help. Please don't get mad at Zuko for not telling you! I swore him to secrecy so it could be a surprise."

"Aang." I touch his hand so our fingers are linked. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Even if you weren't the Avatar, even if you weren't even a bender, you'd still be my best friend."

His eyes are moist, though not from sadness. "I don't know what I'd do without you in my life."

Thankfully, before I have to address a casual conversation that escalated too quickly, the waiter swoops over to collect our plates. "Would you and your girlfriend care for dessert?" he asks Aang.

The airbender bobs his head. "We'd love some! Can I make a special request?"

"Of course. We'll do our best to accommodate."

Aang stands up. "Can I come to the kitchen with you, please?"

The waiter blinks. "Uh . . . I suppose. How special of a request is this?"

"I'll be back. Just wait here," my friend says before disappearing with the waiter, leaving me alone with the panda lily. Well. This is going to be an interesting night.

I pretend to sketch on the table with my chopsticks before folding my arms and laying my head down. How can I break his heart? How can I? But I also realize that if I'm in love with two people and have to make a choice, I should choose the second. If I truly loved Aang, I wouldn't have fallen for Zuko.

Suddenly there's the sound of plates crashing behind me. I turn around in my chair and sit there blinking for a few moments as my brain processes what's clear and plain in front of my eyes. A few tables over, a boy is wiping shards of pottery from his hair. In the chair across him, his date is smiling gently.

"Whoa," Zuko says. "I haven't practiced for a while."

Jin just goes on smiling. "It's alright. Hey, I want you show you one of my favorite places in the city. You up for a walk?"

Very often in life, the thing you do is precisely the opposite of the thing you know you ought to do. In this case, as I watch the couple start to rise, I know that I should let them go on their stroll. But I also remember thinking how the dark calms uncertain hearts and how their walk will probably end with a kiss, and if it does, my chance with Zuko might as well be over. _You're just being jealous_, I tell myself, but this warning doesn't stop me from standing up with the panda lily and coming over to their table. There's still plenty of room on both of their benches for another person.

"Hey," I say rather loudly, sitting down next to Zuko without waiting for permission. "What a coincidence! I didn't expect to see you guys here. How's your night going?"

Zuko blushes fiercely. "We're fine," he mumbles down at the remains of his fish platter.

Jin, who ordered a matching plate of fish, quirks an eyebrow. "Uh . . . great?" She glances over at my empty table. "Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with Aang?"

"Yeah, I know." I set the panda lily pot down on the table to obstruct her view of the firebender. "He's busy in the kitchen getting us some kind of special dessert. I thought I'd come over here to chat in the meantime."

"Maybe you should go back to _your_ table and_ wait_ for your _date_," Jin suggests pointedly. "Besides, we're about to go anyway."

I can't help but notice how handsome Zuko looks in the new green and black outfit Iroh must have picked out for him for this evening. "If you guys wait around here with me, we can all share the dessert."

Jin desperately looks to Zuko for help. He just keeps staring at his plate like he's really not too eager to get involved in a catfight. "Let's wait for dessert," he says at last.

She sighs. "If that's what you want, I guess we can do that." Her face lights up. "Maybe it'll be something really special, like something from air nomad culture." Suddenly, almost as if seeing the flower for the first time, she gasps. "Did Aang give that to you?"

I nod. "Yep."

"Aww. That's a pretty rare flower. It's a symbol of love." She winks. "It's used to win over the heart of that special someone."

Oh. Great. I cross my arms on the table and bury my face. Breaking up with Aang is going to be way harder than I thought.

When I look up, it's to see Zuko touching one of the black-and-white petals. "It reminds me of a flower I loved when I was young."

"What type of flower?" Jin asks, but before he can respond there's a shout behind us.

"Hey, Snoozles! Check it out. Looks like there's a double-date situation going on over there. How about we make it a triple?"

Jin's jaw drops as Toph and Sokka cross the restaurant to join us. The earthbender plops down on the bench next to Jin, and my brother rolls his wheelchair up to an empty side of the table. "Good thing Aang and I found this place. That fish looks great," he says, glancing at the half-empty plates. "Waiter!" he hollers. "Two rounds of fish over here!"

I can't help but grin to myself. What kind of romantic bond can Zuko and Jin make with my brother and Toph hanging around and cracking jokes? After a few moments, though, they seem to forget they've acquired new company. Jin tugs on the long bangs rimming the sides of her face as she smiles playfully at Zuko. He returns her smile, looking at peace again. With Jin, he doesn't have to feel like a banished prince, a boy with an unshakable destiny, or a scarred firebender helpless to defy his fate. He can just feel normal in a way he can never feel around people who know his past. In a way he can never feel around people like me.

"You guys didn't have anything to drink, did you?" Sokka asks.

Zuko scowls. "No."

"Shame. I hear drunk kissing is pretty fun."

I shoot my brother a black glare. "Leave them alone."

The firebender stands. "Actually, I think we might pass on dessert. Jin, should we go for that walk?"

My heart sinks as she stands, beaming. "I'd love to."

I get up, too. "No, uh . . . but Aang should be back soon."

Jin tucks her arm under Zuko's and presses her cheek against his shoulder. "More for you guys, then," she says distantly as if already lost in some dream world of her own.

I grab Zuko's sleeve. "Wait, please—"

A spark of anger glows in his eyes. "Katara. We're leaving."

"But . . . I . . ."

Only I can't finish speaking because a great understanding suddenly washes over me. Every moment in life from the day a person arrives on the planet plants the semblance of a seed into the soul. Seeds sprout over days, months, years. They grow into a force more formidable than any other, a power impossible to see or measure. But the one thing I know for certain is that invisible forces lead to moments of decision. And in those moments, sometimes you just have to breathe and remind yourself that this is the only moment you can be certain of. Whatever comes tomorrow, everything in your life so far has been building towards this choice. And when you stand at a crossroads of destiny like that, you understand destiny is shaped in moments of decision.

This, right here, is a moment.

This, right now, is a choice.

At this crossroads, I ask myself: What is life? What is life if I let Zuko walk away with Jin? And the moment I ask myself this question, I know. I forget my past and don't think to tomorrow. I decide who I am right now at this very moment. I make the decision consciously and carefully.

And then I step forward and kiss him on the mouth.

For the longest time, Zuko just stands there. He doesn't return the kiss. He doesn't push me away. He stands there and tries to understand what I've just gone and done. But before I can begin to enjoy it, before I can accept the fact that I'm standing here kissing Zuko, I hear a very small gasp behind me. Without turning, I know it's Aang standing there with dessert. Aang, who brought me out here with a panda lily as a symbol of his undying love. And Zuko, who can look over my shoulder and very clearly see the heartbroken Avatar, makes a choice of his own.

He shoves me away.

I fall backward, arms swinging. My hand catches the panda lily pot and brings it over the edge of the table to smash on the ground. All of the customers are looking our way as I fall into Aang. We're both sent sprawling on the floor. Something wet and warm bursts over the back of my dress. My nose picks up the smell of fresh fruit pie Aang must have just baked in the back for us and brought out to share.

"Zuko," Jin whispers, her eyes tearing up.

"Forget anything happened," he tells her, his voice squeezed tight by rage. He takes her by the hand and leads her off the patio and into the blackness of night. And I'm left there on the floor with fruit pie all over my dress, with smashed pieces of the panda lily pot strewn everywhere, with my heart in as many pieces as the pottery.

Before Aang or Toph or Sokka can say anything, I run.

I'm strong enough to not break down crying until I'm back at the house. Hot tears melt across my cheeks, only this time there's no one there to wipe them gently away. I sob into my mat, and then I lie on my side and draw my knees toward my chin. I lie in the emptiness and feel everything draining out. There's nothing left to do now. No place to go. Nothing but right here in this lonely house where the truth is, the truth that says I've ruined everything.

A long while later, I hear small footsteps in the doorway. Someone sits next to me on the mat and gently strokes my hair. A tiny voice whispers _it's okay_ into the shadow of my life. I roll over and there Aang is, his eyes wet and breaking, but despite what I've done he says _I'll always be here for you_ and holds me because he knows I need to be held right now. He wraps me in an embrace because the kind of love he holds for me transcends lifetimes. And I know in this moment that whatever happens between us, ours is a forever bond.

But before I can express this, there's a cry from the living room.

Long before Aang and I run into the next room, a sense of black foreboding cuts me up. We skid through the doorway in time to see Zuko, looking scruffy but otherwise unharmed, collapse in the entrance doorway. I call his name and Aang calls his name, but his only response is a soft moan. We kneel beside him as he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _fish_, but when we roll him over he's just trying his hardest to breathe. _What happened, what happened_, is the mantra the airbender and I take up, but he just shakes his head.

"They're in trouble," he murmurs. "Toph. Sokka. Jin."

"Go find them!" I tell Aang, but he's already tearing down the steps on an air scooter.

I splay my palm over Zuko's chest but feel no bleeding or injury. Unlike in the Serpent's Pass when I knew there was some hope of helping him because I just had to heal his wounds, I can't even tell what's wrong other than his vital signs feel like he's been drugged. He suddenly grabs my dress and pulls me forward. "Uncle's watching Tayla. Take care of her," he orders.

"What happened?" I beg.

"Kidnapped," he chokes out. "The Dai Li."

And then I'm just kneeling there and holding the unconscious body of a Zuko induced into a dark stupor by the Earth King's agents. I pray to the spirits that my brother and Toph and even Jin are okay. I pray to the spirits that Aang will find them, and find them quickly.

But somehow, even as I sit here with Zuko's head in my lap and the Avatar out to search for our friends, I know each passing moment washes us closer and closer to a destiny we are all helpless to defy. And the closer we come, the sooner that time approaches, the more I begin to fear that the spirits will not be our friends on that final, fatal day.

_Toph: And if he fell in love tonight, it can be assumed . . ._

_Sokka: Katara's chance with Zuko is history. _

_Toph and Sokka: In short, our pals are doomed. _

_*Takes back spotlight* While some Tokka tears are shed on behalf of all this Zutara heartbreak, let me just say that things are not looking up at all for Team Avatar and our pals appear doomed indeed. Unless an exceptional miracle allows me some free time between now and December, you'll find out over winter break just how the third part of this saga resolves—and what happens when we finally reach the heart-wrenching twist at the conclusion of "From What I've Tasted of Desire: 10."_

___Until next time, may the spirits watch over us all._

_[Edit on September 12, 2012] Though it may be a few months before we meet again, I hope many new readers will discover this story in the intervening time. If you're reading this message after completing the other twenty-five chapters, please know that I would greatly appreciate a few words of feedback at least at this point so I can know how you feel about the story as I prepare to move forward. If you have any thoughts about things you liked or didn't like (constructive criticism is always welcome), I humbly request a quick review with your insights and thank you for your time._

_[Edit on October 9, 2012] Just because I'm not regularly updating due to college work and medical school interviews doesn't mean I'm not actively stalking FFN. I'd like to thank the dear "Guest" who gave me a very kind review this morning and totally made my day (and I'll have to do it here since you can't PM "Guests," sadly). Rest assured that your frequent checks for updates will not go in vain. I will update this story some time within the next two weeks (depending on how quickly my beta reader, concept human, returns the chapter when I email it to him this weekend). It's going to be a beautiful one, I hope. _


	27. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 6

_A/N: __You were probably expecting many various things this week, but I'd wager a guess that an update on this story was not one of them. I do love surprises! And, well, my recent obsession with a certain Wizard Jenkins after discovering the epicness that is Miyazaki's _Howl's Moving Castle_ has gotten me back on FFN in full force to fangirl over fanfiction (for the book and movie, both of which are excellent). A desire to write settled in shortly afterwards, and now you all are stuck with this new chapter. Please pardon if my writing isn't up to its usual standards (I'm understandably a bit out of practice). Also, m__ega thanks to my amazing beta reader, concept human, without whom this chapter would not be possible._

Memories are branches to a tree of human life. No leaf in any forest exists autonomously, not the leaves whispering on the trees that sheltered Aang and I on the cusp of confrontation after Jia kissed Zuko on the ostrich horse farm, nor the ones that rustled as I chose the names for my twin Dao blades. They are all connected to branches, trunks, and roots that dig into the earth. With each storm, these roots push deeper under the soil. The wide earth is one network. Tug on a single memory and you will snag the inescapable branches leading from it to the beginnings of our life journeys.

Let me begin with this: On the table stands a cup of steaming tea, freshly heated by the Avatar sitting across from me at the low table. Though evening has settled and the cooling darkness has slipped through the windows and under the crack beneath the door, we have lit no candles. We swim in the shadows, not speaking. Afraid to let our minds wander towards the bedroom where for three days we have kept a vigil over a friend who has yet to return to the conscious world. I fold the white cup between my hands and realize there are trembling ripples in the tea. This is familiar. I know this scene.

Rewind. We were tired from being chased by Azula and her friends, but how could any of us sleep when two firebenders were in the clearing with us? The younger one knelt beside his uncle and poured tea from a small cup across the old man's lips. From my place reclining with Aang, I could see the tea steam in the evening cold. Iroh had yet to stir in three days, and his condition was getting worse. The airbender and I munched on leechi nuts because this is apparently something acceptable to do: eat while a man is dying. Though Zuko refused to let me help him at first, soon enough my obligation to people who need me overpowered my fear of fire. I helped him bring his uncle down to the creek and warmed the water—until I changed my mind and made an enemy again out of my barely-turned-ally.

Pause. I've been here too often; this memory is stale. Looking back, we try to convince ourselves that we are much smarter than we actually are. I tell myself that I always knew Zuko would turn out to have a good heart, but thinking back, that clearing reminds me of our mutual hate, which was hot enough to burn the earth. There are things in life even I cannot expect, until they suddenly happen and I'm left to wonder how it possibly could have come to pass. Another memory would be better. Here is one. In my childhood, there were two things I liked to stare at: a crackling fire and its reflection across a crystalline curtain.

Play. I was five years old and despite the winter winds of the south, Sokka and I considered ourselves clever and adult enough to go camping out on our own. Forbidden by our parents, we snuck off anyway with a few supplies to last the day and night. In the sunset sky, the flat mirror of ice beneath our booted feet became a solar conflagration of reds swirled with golds and purples.

We gazed at the sun hunched against the horizon and not at the thin fissure hidden beneath a light fluff of fresh snow. I whirled as I heard Sokka's shriek. I crawled to the edge of the chasm wall, looking down. The wind swept loose hair across my eyes. My brother's name was a wail from my throat, an even louder wail when I slipped on the crumbling brink and pitched forward into the dark. I swam through blackness and came up gasping for breath in Sokka's arms. A river of dimming light glowed above us, but we were trapped meters below the surface by a slick and vertical plummet. I hid my face in the folds of his hooded coat while he started up a fire with kindling from his pack.

Our hands linked. We pressed against each other to keep warm in the subzero cold. I kept Sokka from drifting off by flicking him in the forehead, but the fire alone was enough to keep me up. Its light fell and reflected like a curtain of candlelight across the fissure walls. In the black night, it became the only light in the world. It was this glow that guided our mother to find us in the hours before sunrise along with half a village of men.

Pause. I have always wondered one thing about myself. I was born in a village of water, raised in a landscape of endless ice and frozen seas, grew up gazing at skies the color of flat gray pancakes. Despite these things, or maybe because of them, my relationship with fire is one of curiosity. Though it is my extreme opposite, there are few sights in the world as beautiful as one small flame pulsing in a cave of darkness. That night in the fissure, my brother and I reached out to the fire. My fingers passed just above the reach of the curling flames, but their warmth saturated through my skin. I pressed the rose glow of my finger pads to my brother's cheeks. He pressed his hands to mine when I started to doze off. We kept each other awake that way all night. The fire kept us alive, and I remember another time when I felt alive in firelight.

Play. Nearly ten years after the night with Sokka and the pulse of fire between us, there was a different kind of fire between two once-strangers. Soot swirled off the floor when I stepped back to take a momentary break from pumping the smelter bellows. My firebender companion rubbed sweat from his eyes and wiped his hand on his pants, the only clothes he hadn't stripped in the heat of swordcrafting. He thought I wasn't looking, a perfect opportunity. In my village in the south, there were always the teen girls who judged men for their physical perfection. These were the girls who swooned at hunters' feet when they came home, who whispered about their wedding nights and compared giggling notes. There is more to a man than the sweat that outlines years of hard physical training, more to a man than the strength of his arms, legs, the lines of his strong chest and shoulders. However, in the secret dark of a place that forges more than swords, I felt like one of those girls from my village long ago.

Pause. I bet most of those girls are married now, as common practice marries a girl off at sixteen. These ordinary girls of the southern water tribe are free to choose their own husbands and marry whomever they see fit. They're lucky. As the daughter of a chief, my father says I may have political obligations. When I return home after the war, he might even have plans for an arranged marriage. Once when I was young and barely even budding into a woman—it was after my mother's death, I remember—an older man from the north came to speak with my father about my marriage to his high-ranking son. I'd seen him around the village before, though he was mostly a stranger. There was a crook I didn't like to the old man's smile. His laughter was nervous and his voice too high. He thought he could discuss me as if I was an object to be sold off.

Stop. I don't like this memory, either. When I think of my father, I think of a man my brother and I have already lost. In my youth I wanted to come to him for comfort and protection. I wanted him to scoop me in his arms as I ran down a snow-dusted path in the village, reaching out with my hands. However, that would require him to be home. He left, understandably, for the war.

At least my mind understood this. There are too many resent-induced complications I have stored in my heart for ours to be a simple relationship. I have strong memories of my father. Activate a visual one I have kept safely for so long.

Play. It was a few weeks after my mother died, and I still couldn't bear for people to touch me. Gran-Gran's comb through my hair made me weep. All I wanted to do is look out at the ocean. _I want my mother_, I thought. _My mother is dead_. This was the only cycle of thoughts that filled every waking hour. It was the only thing I dreamed of at night, myself whispering these words to the ice-bathed world.

_I want my mother. _

_My mother is dead. _

I stood alone looking out at the ocean while back in the village other children played with both their parents. I started walking. The wind cut across the water far off to my left, and wide open ice formed its own sea to my right. All I could think of was this: _I can't continue to live. _I knelt by the ocean and leaned forward to dip my hands in the water. I spread my fingers apart and held them flat beneath the surface. The current played across my palms. I was in love with the ocean. I was in love with the idea of not continuing to live because this was more bearable than its opposite: continuing to live in a world where every moment of every day for the rest of my life, I would have to go on without my mother.

I sat by the shoreline of ice-meets-water and tugged off my coat. I tossed aside my coat and lay down on my back. Healing is advice people tell each other to shut grievers up. I was tired of pretending I could just _get over this_. Over the past weeks I had learned there are so many kinds of tears and ways of crying. I had mastered a repertoire. That day, I was too tired for tears. I closed my eyes because the love I had for my mother was too much for one lone person to carry.

If this were just a fairytale, what would happen next is I would hear running footsteps and shouts and my father would come scoop me up in his arms. He would spin me around and then he would wrap me in his coat and I would press my nose into his chest. His shirt would smell like my childhood, the scents of sea prune stew and my mother's hair that have been set down in my memory in a permanent way. We would return to the village and I would leave my grief behind because somehow his presence would counsel me.

But this isn't just a story, and sometimes in real life the only person who can save you is yourself. I lay looking up at the flat gray sky I'd known my entire life, and what I thought about was my brother and what would happen to him once my father left for the war. My mother's death at Fire Nation hands was not okay. It will never be okay. But if I left Sokka behind, how could he hold up a life weighed down by two losses? I could not bear the heaviness of my mother's death, but for my brother I would have to. Sokka and I would have to bear it together. I stood up and slid my arms back into my coat and walked back to the village.

Here is why this memory is linked to my father: When I returned, the day was growing towards evening and a great fire was stoked to cook up dinner. The smell of meat roasting curled into the night. My father was standing beyond the fire drinking something with his men. He hadn't even noticed his daughter was missing, his little girl who all day had considered her love affair with the ocean and the peace of release it could bring. My brother ran over the moment he saw me, asking where I'd gone and disappeared to because he cared enough. Sokka and I could make it. We would have to. No one else would look out for two kids growing up at the heart of a village torn apart by a hundred-year war.

Not even their own father.

Stop.

Across the table, Aang clears his throat. "Are you okay?"

I erase tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. "I'm fine."

"Should we check up on Zuko?"

I glance at the sliding door panel beyond which the firebender still has not stirred after three long, painful days. "We might wake Tayla," I say.

"I could do it quietly."

"Let her sleep. We'll check on them in the morning."

Aang sighs. "You need to get some sleep. Katara, you haven't slept at all."

"I've taken naps, remember?" I lie."You're the one who's not sleeping enough. Go take a quick nap and I'll wake you up in a few hours."

He takes a sip of his tea. It's all empty talk anyway, though it's the first conversation in excess of a handful of words that Aang and I have had since the date. We both know I won't sleep until Zuko wakes up. The firebender is part of my family now, the one called Team Avatar. Since that day when I peeled myself off the ice and came back to the village for my brother's sake, I have made a sacred vow to never turn my back on people who need me. If Zuko's condition changes, I want to be the first to be there for him. I press my lips to the teacup and feel the warmth of dark liquid move down my throat. Yes, I need to be there for him when he comes to. Iroh would be here, too, but he's off trying to track down any sort of lead for our friends' disappearance. Aang and I have run out of ideas, and it's not just Sokka, Toph, and Jin who are missing.

Play. It's the morning after the trio of dates, the kidnapping, and Zuko's broken return to the house. While Aang scoured the city for any trace of our friends, I slowly walked to the teashop to tell Iroh about the tragedy. I paused outside the door to the shop. He was going to kill me for this. He was going to kill me for not coming to get him earlier when his nephew has been knocked out for hours already, but is it a crime for me to have hoped Zuko would wake by morning and this heartbreak could be avoided? When I came inside, Iroh was pouring tea for a customer. I told him I had something to tell him and that it wasn't not going to be easy to hear. He stopped pouring and looked at me, and then he set down the pot because I think he knew he was about to drop it. This man who had traveled with his nephew for three long years, who had taken care of Zuko ever since the boy was cast out of his own home and family, the uncle who loved the former prince like his own son, this man listened as I told him everything.

Iroh did not finish pouring the customer his tea. He did not even say anything to me. He ran out and left me to man the teashop, which I did, mechanically serving out prepared pastries and filling cups. At lunch, I sat at the corner table where all of Team Avatar had gathered only a few days ago. I looked at my hands, which belonged to a person incapable of doing anything to help her brother and her friends.

_Katara?_

This was a voice I recognized. I looked up and saw, of all people, Smellerbee standing halfway across the teashop. It was her and Longshot together, both of their faces lit up like I was at minimum a spirit come to save them from darkness.

Smellerbee came over. _I can't believe we found you. Have you seen Jet?_

_Jet? He was with you. _

_He was. Now he's been missing for days. We've been looking everywhere. _

I got up. _How? What happened? _

But she wouldn't give out the details, nor did her silent companion pitch in to help. She vaguely talked around Jet being suspicious about a powerful firebender in the city and going to the Dai Li to report him. The guards listened carefully and asked him to come with them to the palace to file a full report. He left alone and that was the end of it. He's been gone ever since.

We three stood around the table, bound by loss and failure to protect the people who matter to us most. I stood there shocked by my own incompetence and naïve trust. Of course Jet went to the Dai Li about the Fire Lord's own son infiltrating the city. How could I confess the truth when he asked me back on the monorail car? At the moment of our parting, didn't I see Jet's narrowed eyes cut to Zuko? However, I let it slide. Of course I did. Because I'm blind, a fool, and in my trust I betrayed the people I love—

Stop. I can't look back on this memory. I need to focus on anything else, on right now, on this moment when I'm sitting at a low table with Aang across from me. Enough time has passed that neither of our cups steams warm mist now. I leave my nearly untouched tea and push up to my feet. The airbender looks hard at the table and at my cup and at his own, which he's holding. There are uneven ripples in his tea.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"You're right. We should check up on Zuko and Tayla."

I step through the doorway to an adjacent bedroom and cross the wooden floor with silent steps that leave hot prints on the cold floorboards. My toes pause by the mat where Zuko lies, chest rising and falling in slow breaths, his eyes closed and the moonlight pouring over them. Beside him, another sleeping form lies on the mat. A blanket is cast haphazardly across Tayla, who has snuggled in close to the firebender shoulder. Her coming here is a good memory to look back on as I kneel and tuck the blanket beneath her chin.

Play. I had nothing to say to Smellerbee and Longshot, friends of that traitor Jet who probably sparked Zuko's attempted kidnapping. And why not come after my friends, too, who let a prince of the hated Fire Nation onto Earth Kingdom grounds and even into the palace itself? They'll be after Aang and I next, now I'm sure. I left them standing alone at the corner table and headed for the way out. I don't care where Jet is. Hopefully he's in a place where I'll never find him, because if I do, I might attempt to kill him. If my brother or Toph or even Jin is hurt, I _will_ end him. I swear it.

As I stepped outside still carrying my anger like a hot pearl burning down in my stomach, I saw a familiar five-and-a-half year old standing out in the noon sun. She hugged me around the middle and pushed her face into my stomach.

She mumbled into my shirt. _Where's Jin? _

_Tayla . . . _

_Jin_, she said again as if I didn't hear. _Jin, my sister_.

I took her tiny hand in mine and felt the smallness of her fingers curled up against my palm. _You found this place alone? _

_I got a good memory_, she said. _I remember lots of things and people. Even the ones who leave. _

I think she meant her parents, and this coaxed a lump into my throat. To risk coming all this way, she must have been all alone in a house where there was only Jin left to take care of her. _Your sister will come back soon. I promise. Um . . . why don't you come back with me in the meantime? _It took three steps for her small feet to match one of my strides. _You can have a sleepover with me and Aang and Zuko._

_Zuko? Yes, please! _she sang. _My sister really, really likes him. I like him, too. He's a good friend. _

When we got back to the house, Aang was sitting on the front steps. He didn't say anything or even look at me. His face was hidden in his palms. I sent Tayla inside to look for Zuko and sat down beside the airbender. His shoulders shuddered at my touch, and his hurt eyes didn't look at me. He had put on an act of forgiveness when he returned from the restaurant, and I guess he just wasn't going to get into an open tiff because that wasn't Aang's way. He wasn't going to let us grieve together over our friends. I had cut his heart too deep.

_Iroh's inside_, he told me. In other words, I was dismissed.

When I went in, I found Iroh standing at the low living room table looking down. He told me to take care of Zuko and that he was going to find out what the Dai Li had done.

_Should we hide in the teashop? _I asked, not sure if it was safe to stay here where the Dai Li knew our location for sure.

He shook his head. _They have made the first move and are tracking our location carefully, of that I am certain. To run now is to invite further action. It would be wisest to remain here. Keep Zuko safe while I am away_.

_I will. I promise._

Iroh hovered on the doorstep and turned to look back at me. _And take care of Tayla. My nephew is very dear to her. _

I didn't know what he meant exactly until I went into the neighboring bedroom and saw the child sitting cross-legged beside the unconscious firebender. She poked his arm and, when he remained unresponsive, lay down beside him and rolled her forehead against his shoulder. She shook him and said his name over and over. Looking at her face, I was reminded of what I must have looked like when I lay down beside the ocean when my mother died and waited for the spirits to give her back to me even when I knew she was already lost.

_He'll be okay. I promise_, I whispered. It was the second uncertain promise I had made in as many minutes.

Tayla sat back up and reached her arms for me. I scooped her up in my lap and we sat together beside the mat. My fingers moved unconsciously through her hair in a comforting gesture.

_I've always wanted a brother_, _too,_ she said thoughtfully. She reached out and grabbed Zuko's hand. I hugged her more tightly, knowing each moment and moment and moment again might be pushing us further from ever finding her sister. But I'd take care of this child if I had to. Just let the Dai Li try to come hurt her.

Pause. Three days later, Tayla hasn't left the house. Aang has softened again thanks to her presence, and she is the one who stays with Zuko each night while the Avatar and I sit around the living room table and pretend to sip tea. I wish I would let myself stay with Zuko, too, but I was afraid looking back on these branches of memories. Looking at Tayla right now, I remember how much happiness there is to be had in life. Looking at Zuko, I remember the night when I whispered _I don't know why, but I think I do like you _into the dark after he kissed Jin. I also remember Aang waiting for me to return and sleep beside him and me doing just that, but best of all I remember wanting nothing more than to lie down beside Zuko that night and be wrapped up together in the moonlight coming down like cold fire across the clearing.

Tonight, I adjust the blanket so it's still across Tayla where her tiny fingers are cocooned in Zuko's hands. There is enough free blanket for me to press in close to the firebender on his unoccupied side and shield myself from the night. For a long time I have been close to the other side of knowledge about my feelings toward Zuko, feelings that culminated on the night of our three dates. Tonight, the tenderness that veins through me with sadness invites me to cross the veil. I observe myself as if considering the symptoms of a stranger. In one cycle of breath and exhale, I pass across to the other side: understanding.

_You are in love._

I lie curled against the firebender as I look out the window at the moon-soaked sky. Zuko knows many tricks and he knows many techniques, but his most well-played strike came so subtly and sank so deeply that I should have known long ago there would be no escape. Love for your family and your friends is a very small and ordinary thing when you cut away all the drama and layers. It is simply something you know to be true. It can shield you from the blackness of life and fill you will hope even in an ice fissure with sheer vertical walls and nothing but a pulse of fire to keep you warm in the dark. Love can keep you alive.

When we have all escaped from this nightmare, when we have found my brother and Toph and reunited the two sisters, when Aang and I have finally truly come to terms with how messed up things have gotten between us, then maybe Zuko and I can be together not in memory but in some future life.

Here is hope for the future: We are holding one another's hands and smiling and smiling, and our affection is as natural as the air we breathe and as simple as the clouds moving in a sun-drenched wave across the sunset sky. We are sitting on a cliff together looking out at the wide sea. He cups my hands in both of his and our fingers mesh. Like the leaves on the branches of memories, we are one linked network. All of our friends—our family—are rooted more firmly to this network by each weathered storm.

Probably thinking about Zuko is the reason, though I sleep little, my brief rest is filled with fast-moving air beating across my face. I feel like I am flying in a very high place somewhere, way up over the earth and sea and clouds. I am riding a living current of blue fire, or some kind of animal with scales glittering like a river in the starlight hours. There is someone sitting in front of me, a man with his black hair pinned up by a hairpiece like a small flame. In the high-velocity wind, his red and gold robes flap like wings. I imagine this must be older Zuko, but when I call his name and he looks back, it is a man I know from a different place. It is the man from the beach house of my dreams.

_Don't worry about him. _He looks back ahead. _You will see Zuko again_.

_Where are we going? _

_Back to Whaletail Island. I promise your water tribes will not find you there. As you have seen, you can hide for years without being discovered. Even the Southern Raiders never knew of its native people. I will stay with you for the first few days to make sure you are safe and adjusted._

Hiding from my own people? _How can I just do that? _

_You heard what the council decided. Zuko is free, but they will never let you go. If you ever wish to return to the Fire Nation, we have no other choice. _

_So running away and hiding is some kind of answer? It sounds like you're planning, what? To drop me off on some island, and then what? Have you even thought this plan through? What if you forget you left me or just decide not to come back—_

_Come, now. After all this time, would I just abandon you? _He glances back grinning wickedly. _Am I not a man of unquestionable honor? _He chuckles at his own joke, a real laugh that comes from a warm place deep in his chest. When he goes on, it is now with sincerity. _You should have learned that in my family, we have a tradition of losing our way. But once we struggle and suffer and find our path again, we never leave behind those who have helped us . . . or forget them. Ah, yes, I have an idea. Take this with you. _He passes me a very small wooden box from a pocket inside his robe. _My brother gave this to me when we were boys. I've always kept it stocked fresh with ginseng and jasmine tea, our favorite kinds. It originally belonged to our third brother, so he thought it was right for me to have it—you understand. I have never willingly let it leave my side until this moment. So if you're worried I will not come back for you, rest assured I will return for that box. It's all I have left of him. _

This man's name is right on my tongue, but before I can speak it I wake to morning sunlight. Beside me lies a still-unconscious boy whose sleek chin will never bear the dark dragon-tail beard of the unscarred man who haunts what I'm beginning to suspect are not just simple dreams. Spirits are very wise, and very careful. There is a difference between dreams and premonitions, and I sense I've crossed more than a single veil of understanding this strange night.

_A/N: [Note: Wait, wait, don't attack me for the ending few paragraphs! Artistic license, remember!] This chapter was written despite the December 2012 hiatus in gratitude for all of your love and support throughout this writing journey. However, I'm now going to ask you all for one small favor. Tonight, at precisely midnight in my time zone, I might get my very first call regarding medical school acceptance. I would very much appreciate your good luck wishes and your good luck vibes in anticipation of that phone call. I've been working towards medical school for a very long time. It's my dream. Today, every bit of luck counts (and I will report the midnight results on my profile page tomorrow for those who care to know how it went down). And pleeeeeeeeeease tell me what you think of this update (so I know if I'm still writing well or if this hiatus is causing my work to suffer)._

_Edit: As of 12:53 AM on October 15, 2012, I have received my first medical school acceptance and will OFFICIALLY be joining the MD class of 2017! Your good luck vibes paid off! XD_


	28. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 7

_A/N: First of all, *jaw drops*, nearly 500 reviews?! My soul sings. Thank you for taking the time to leave your thoughts! :D Also, a concerned reader PMed me to ask why I would choose such a grotesquely unoriginal title as "Fire and Ice" for a piece that was otherwise succeeding in not being cliché. How many Zutara stories have used those same three words to capture the sun and moon, yin and yang, push and pull juxtaposition of our young lovers? Of course, this is the __**obvious **__dynamic my title captures. I chose a title that touches on the traditional Zutara dynamic, yet it is also a title that does two other important things. For one, it allowed me to use Robert Frost's moving poem as an organizing principle for this saga. More importantly, it captures an even __**more **__critical dynamic in this story: the sun and moon, yin and yang, push and pull juxtaposition of the __two men who are critical influences in Katara's life throughout this journey. Obviously, you have already met one of them: Zuko. Yet the other is one who has thus far hovered just out of reach of the text, a phantom presence we spiral ever closer and closer to actually encountering. When we began, I promised you an epic like few others. And very soon, you will finally understand what makes this saga unique and unlike any other, since it tackles a task I have never seen any other fanfiction attempt. For now, my dears, read on. _

I have come to believe that the Air Nomads must have been unlike any people left alive today, and this is not only on account of their bending. They were a people content with life in four air temples hidden away atop mountain ranges or on remote islands tucked away at the edges of the civilized world. My tribe, too, was in one of the last remote places not yet consumed by the fierce industry of the Fire Nation or the sprawling agriculture of the Earth Kingdom. One of my favorite memories from the south is taking a day-long hiking trip with Sokka and our father up to a mountain peak and camping out overnight near the summit. The next morning, we lay down on blankets spread across the snow and munched on jerky brought from the village. Here in this last place, dawn touched the earth with a quality I've never seen elsewhere. As the moon bowed low in the sky, a sea of light grew against the horizon. The light gathered first in the low gaps between mountains, rising till it seemed to overflow, until it finally buried the rock and ancient earth beneath its mass and, flooding higher, swept over the stars, washing the night from them and clearing the sky for the sun as it crested over distant sea. I have always loved sunrise for the memory of this one daybreak.

I say these things as a way of coming to this conclusion: People who live in the last places of the earth see the world in a different way than those whose eyes only know the sights of machines or rice fields. I have experienced such beauty maybe a handful of times in my life when my father took me traveling in the south, but the Air Nomads saw life the way it looks from remote mountains every day. The connection they struck with nature bonded them to spirituality with an unbreakable string. It made them better somehow. It made them like Aang, whose goodness is beyond even my capacity to express.

Actually, I really say all of these things as a way to say this: When I woke up this morning, I realized it was going to take a very long time to forgive myself for what I'd done to Aang. You can't break something so rare and beautiful without feeling your own heart ripped out every time you see the shattered fragments that remain, as I had broken the last of the airbenders.

Maybe I should just describe what happened.

I woke up rubbing my eyes and knowing that, as soon as Iroh got back, we needed to have a serious chat. No way will I believe a dream as specific as mine from last night could be random or meaningless. Whoever this man from the beach house might be, his regal robes and flame headpiece suggest a high-ranking official of the Fire Nation. For what reason would _I _dream of a guy like that, especially one who wants to hide me from my own people? With all his wisdom, Iroh might have some helpful insights. Maybe he'd even recognize the dream man if I described that weird long beard of his that gets on my nerves every time I see it.

I considered collecting my swords from the corner of Zuko's room where I'd left them yesterday morning. Each of these past three days, I'd gone outside to practice some techniques as I have grown accustomed to each day around sunrise. When I first asked my new sifu to train me weeks ago, I think what I really wanted was to get closer to him at a time when he might let down his emotional guard. But recently, mastering swords has become its own pleasure. I want to get good at my lessons for the sake of the craft. I want to get good because Zuko has faith that I will, and I want to make my sifu proud.

But on the morning of this, the fourth day, I felt my head sway when I picked up the sheath. I glanced back at Zuko lying on his mat. How much longer before he stirred? And if he never did—

I dropped the sheath with a clatter, though of course the noise didn't wake my friend. No way was I letting my thoughts wander that way. What I needed was a distraction that had nothing to do with him. Actually, what I _needed _was to go talk to Aang who always knew the right words of comfort. You know, if he were still talking to me sincerely like old times and not with his guard up.

But at some point, we'd need to work out what happened that date night anyway unless we planned to let it remain the elephant koi in the room forever. So I slipped into the main living room where Tayla was sitting at the low table munching on a breakfast of soup and bean curd puffs. She fed occasional small bites to Momo, who was perched happily on her head. Aang watched them eat across the table. An empty tea cup sat sadly by his hand, looking lonely.

"Hey," I said, wandering over. "Good morning."

Tayla mumbled something like _hi, Katara_ through a mouthful of puffs. Something about my name must have elicited an allergy, since suddenly her eyes squinted together as she sneezed. Bits of puffs sprayed the table and Aang and the teacup. "Oops," she said shyly. "Sorry . . ."

My friend beamed. "That's okay. Don't worry." He wiped down the tabletop and picked wet pieces off his cheeks and shirt. "Good morning, Katara. How did you sleep?"

"Not bad. Want some help?"

"I got it." He took the teacup to the kitchen to wash off it off, but I followed him. Aang set the cup down on a counter. Morning light tilted through the window across his face.

"Thanks for taking care of Tayla this morning," I said as he made a performance out of cleaning off the cup in the washbasin. His back remained to me, but I could see his hands working under the water. I saw the peeking points of the long blue arrows, the yellow sleeves of his shirt, his small fingers. "You're really great with kids. One day, you'll make a great father."

Aang stopped washing and looked at me, but he kept his hands on the cup, holding it gently. This was the boy I'd kissed in the Cave of Two Lovers. The boy I walked beside beneath a lonely cluster of trees the night when I felt like I was in the warmest place in the world because we were alone together. My first crush, my greatest friend, keeper of secret thought shares over our many months together—he smiled, and then he let the cup go beneath the water surface. It floated to the bottom with a very small thump.

"I guess I would have," he said quietly, and then he slipped past me to the room where Tayla was calling for desserts. I looked at the cup beneath the rippled water and wondered if the thump had been it sinking or my own heart pushing into my throat. The heaviness of my mother's death had nearly been too much for me to carry. The small and broken pieces of still-kindled love in the Avatar's eyes are just as heavy, because even though he's technically alive I've killed something of the pure force of goodness a childhood in the earth's last places helped him become.

Realizing this is how I found myself sitting outside on the front steps, feeling miserable about life. That's where I still am now, hating how much the heart can burn in the case of unrequited affection. I'm so lost in my own daze of thoughts that I don't even recognize the man coming up the stairs until he practically steps right on me.

"You are supposed to be watching my nephew," he chides, though not unkindly. "Is he inside?"

"Iroh!" I gasp, getting up. "You're back. Did you find anything out? Any leads?"

He lays a hand on my shoulder. "Let us speak after I see how Zuko's condition has improved."

_It hasn't_, I'd like to warn him, but I know better than to do anything but step aside in silence while he goes inside. I hover around the entrance, not going in for fear of seeing Aang and having my heart break open for a second time in the same morning. After a few long minutes, Iroh returns.

"All I have learned is the Earth King's agents refuse to allow anyone to grace his company," he tells me. "I believed he might have been able to help us."

"What, you tried to _pop in_ on the Earth King with no luck?" I ask. He didn't have to disappear for three days to test this theory. I could've told him as much on day one, which leads me to suspect there's a lot more Iroh isn't telling me. Sigh. They might as well call me Lady Nose for how much I like to pry and meddle, but this time even I recognize it might be smartest to drop it. A man as wise as Iroh must have reasons for disappearing at odd times that probably aren't subject to questioning.

"Well, you didn't miss much back here. We don't have leads, either, and Zuko's not any better or worse. Which I guess is its own spirit blessing." I shift weight from one foot to the other. "So, what do we do now?"

Iroh sits on the steps and looks out at the world. "There is little to do but wait and let the spirits guide us. When my nephew wakes up, he may remember something of the kidnapping. This may be our only hope for a clue."

A current of certainty slips through me. With his mention of spirit guidance, now would be a perfect time to bring it up. "Um . . . Iroh? Well, I guess there's _one_ new thing. Kind of new. See, I've been having these weird dreams recently. Maybe they might help us."

Iroh glances at me with interest. "Come," he says, pushing to his feet. "Let us walk while you tell me."

Perfect. I follow him down to the walkway, and we set off. "So, I keep dreaming about this guy. Well, not really a _guy_. He's an older man. From how he dresses in red and black and gold robes, I think he might be someone important from the Fire Nation."

"Hmm. Perhaps the spirits are sending you a vision."

"I wondered that, but I'm not the Avatar. Why would they?"

"Yet you are the Avatar's very close friend. If he is indeed an official of high rank from the Fire Nation, the spirits may mean to say you have a friend among the Fire Lord's allies." Iroh strokes his chin. "Describe this man for me. Perhaps I even know him."

I tell him what I remember from my dreams and search for recognition in the wrinkles of his thoughtful expression. It takes a while, since I start with the two snatched glimpses from the warm beach house that was dusty and bare of furniture. My companion nods as I describe the regally carved red comb that was used to brush my hair, but his nods become less frequent and turn into a tight-lipped frown when I mention how I thought the man's golden eyes were so very much like Zuko's. I explain how the man reminded me of Zuko in many ways, except maybe for the more angular quality of his face and that long dragon tail beard.

"He hugged me in the beach house," I say, remembering how the stranger wrapped me in his embrace. The more I look back on that dream, the more I wonder whose tears I felt on my face.

Iroh shakes his head slowly, but his eyes are watching me with concern. "And you say there was _another_ vision?"

"Yeah, one more. It started out with me feeling like I was flying on some kind of . . . I mean, I don't know. It's kind of crazy."

"Tell mewhat you remember, regardless of how strange it may seem."

"I guess . . . it was like a river of blue fire, but it was an animal, like . . . I think it was a dragon, okay?" I tell him, confessing the completely ridiculous notion that's been creeping up on me all morning. "But that's crazy. I've heard dragons are extinct, wiped out by firebenders."

Iroh nods knowingly. "Of course, but it may be that the dragon in your dream is merely a symbol."

"I don't think so. The rest of it seemed pretty specific. He told me he was taking me to Whaletail Island where the water tribes wouldn't find me. Me hiding from the water tribes? That doesn't even make any sense. And he said something about how some council freed Zuko, but not me"—I throw my hands up—"I mean, I don't know!"

Iroh gestures to a patio restaurant at the edge of an oddly familiar town square we've wandered into. "Perhaps we should go sit and enjoy some lunch."

Since he doesn't ask any more questions even after we're seated and glancing through our menus, I think the lunch offer must be Iroh's way of recognizing I need a break before I'm ready to keep discussing this. I glance through the options and let my gaze settle on a fish platter whose description seems oddly familiar—oh.

I set down the menu and glance around. It's the same place Aang took me three nights ago. Sigh. Why Iroh would take us back here of all places is anyone's guess.

"There was one more part to the dream," I tell my companion after I've ordered the fish. When he glances up with interest, I add, "He gave me a wooden box and said it was filled with ginseng and jasmine tea. There was something about how it belonged to his third brother, but I think something happened to him. The man said the box was all he had left of his brother. And that's it. That's all that happened."

Iroh looks at me very carefully for a few very long seconds and says nothing.

I shift in the uncomfortable silence. "So . . . have you ever met him?"

He closes his eyes, and suddenly I am reminded of myself talking on the monorail car with Jet. He wanted to know if Zuko was from the Fire Nation, and for a very long I debated to tell him the truth or not. Truth, as I realized then, is a very dangerous thing whether told or concealed. You never know whether acquired knowledge might be the thing to save or kill you.

"Katara," he says at last, looking at me again. "You should know that the spirits have been mistaken before."

Spirits . . . mistaken? "What do you mean?"

"When I was a boy, I had a vision that I would one day take Ba Sing Se. Six years ago, my army besieged the Earth Kingdom capital. My infantry breached the Outer Wall, securing our foothold for advancement into the agrarian zone. I believed in the spirit vision, but it did not come to pass. Instead something very precious to me was taken in that battle, and all because I followed what I was certain must be truth. What this means, Katara, is that the spirits sometimes choose to share wisdom with us, but we must be cautious in following it. Be careful of your vision, and be most slow to believe that which you most wish should be true."

What I think he means is this: _I know who this man is, but I will not tell you._

I try to casually convince him it would be okay to share this information. "In my dreams, I don't think he meant me harm," I say. "He was just trying to help. It seemed to me like he was a good person."

Iroh pinches the bridge of his nose. "It would be best if your paths never crossed."

"But what if we do meet? If you think he's dangerous, I need to be ready," I argue more forcefully. "And you recognize him, don't you? Can you tell me? Hello?"

But my companion is staring at a point somewhere over my right shoulder, looking mildly dazed and entirely distracted. I turn around, too, to see what's so interesting. In the bright noon light of the restaurant, exactly where I remember last seeing them, my brother and Toph and Jin are slumped over snoozing peacefully around a single table a few rows away. My brother's even drooling against his arm as he snores not very quietly at all.

Jin. Toph. _Sokka_.

They're alive. They're _back_.

I make a dive for my brother and knock him clear off the bench. We fall under the table as Sokka's eyes snap open and he shrieks. "Woah, woah! Katara, geroff!" he manages to choke out around my death grip. I'm hugging him around the middle, not caring if he can or can't breathe for the next few seconds.

"Sokka, you're okay!"

"Yeah, 'course I am," he says, crawling out from under the table and dragging me out with him. "Dinner was great, and a good nap after never hurt anyone."

Huh? "Hello, you were _kidnapped_."

"Kidnapped?" He jumps up and spins around, scoping out the scene. "If someone's kidnapped, we have to go get them."

"No, _you_ were kidnapped . . . Sokka," I tail off, trembling, my mouth gaping.

He crosses his arms and makes a show of rolling his eyes. "What other nonsense do you have for me today, sis?"

"Your _legs_."

Now we're both looking down at my brother standing up. It occurs to me that the wheelchair is nowhere in sight, but I'm too busy jumping up and down and hugging my healed brother to bring it up. "I got my legs back!" he cheers. "I got my—ow! Owww . . ."

"And I got some great sleep until you yelled up a storm. Shut it, Snoozles," Toph grumbles, adjusting her position slightly in her seat.

Jin stirs, too. They're all waking up now. "Toph, are you okay?" I ask, coming close but not _so_ close that I get a friendly punch to the arm, too.

She rubs sleep out of her eyes and sits up. "Yeah, but I don't think I could've picked a worse place to nap." She stretches out her arms with a wide yawn. "Remind me never to fall asleep at a table again."

Iroh, meanwhile, has gone over to Jin. He shakes her shoulders gently. Her mouth tightens and her eyebrows furrow as if she's trying desperately to hold on to some fading dream. When Iroh quietly says her name, a small noise escapes her throat. She opens her eyes and looks up. "Zuko . . ." she murmurs absentmindedly, suggesting the content of that dream she tried to cling to. A sharp splinter threatens to work its way into my chest, but I shake it off. No time to worry about anything but making sure everyone's okay. We'll work out the other stuff later.

"I'm just glad you're all safe," I say. "You guys were kidnapped by the Dai Li—"

"Katara," Iroh says quickly, cutting me off. "Perhaps we all should return to the house for some nice tea."

I try to argue, but the sharpness of his glare suggests I keep my fat mouth shut for the time being. Just in case we're being watching by those very Dai Li, I guess. Thankfully, Toph has no intention of being silenced by anyone.

"Listen, Sugar Queen, I don't know what cactus juice you've been sipping on, but I don't remember being 'kidnapped'by anyone," she tells me.

Say _what_? "You guys have been missing for three days!" I yell, ignoring Iroh's insistent gestures towards the way out of the restaurant. "Aang and Iroh and I have been searching for you guys everywhere."

By now, Jin is fully awake and also listening. She watches me with a bewildered gaze as her brain slowly processes what I'm implying. "Where's Tayla? Is she safe?"

"Yeah, she's back at the house with us. Zuko was also almost captured, but he only got drugged and managed to slip away—"

I stop and look at Iroh. Iroh freezes and looks at me. We're thinking the same thing. If these three suddenly stirred all at once, then maybe whatever drug was used on them is wearing off. And if their drug is wearing off . . .

"_Zuko_," Iroh and I say.

He takes off first but I'm in fast pursuit, dragging my brother along by the sleeve. Toph and Jin follow after us, and on the run home they force out bits of my version of events. I remind them of what happened that night in the restaurant—skimming over the kiss—and how Zuko showed up afterwards at the house and passed out at the doorway. The three of them just stare at me blankly, but how could they _not _remember getting attacked?

Before I have time to figure it out, we're running up the steps to the house. Babysitter Aang and his young charge, who were playing some game with tile pieces on the living room floor, look up. The airbender's mouth drops open at the sight of Toph and Sokka. Tayla squeals at the sight of her sister. She runs to Jin and hugs her around the middle, knocking both of their lungs clear of breath.

"Where'd you go for so long?" Tayla asks, pushing her face into Jin's stomach as if trying to glue their bodies together. "I missed you."

Jin looks at me, baffled. I guess she's starting to really believe my whole 'kidnapped' story. But I'll deal with that later. Right now, there's someone who needs my attention more.

Iroh is first to run into his nephew's room. I hover just outside the doorway, peeking in and listening carefully but giving them some space. Jin comes up behind me with Tayla still clinging to her waist. We three watch Iroh shaking Zuko's shoulder gently, then more roughly. He whispers his nephew's name over and over, his face gray with concern. I see my friend's breathing growing more steady and deep. His fingers twitch, and one lone word escapes his lips.

"Uncle . . ."

"Zuko!" Iroh shouts, relief breaking over his relaxed shoulders and wide grin.

"Zuko," Jin says. She pushes past me along with Tayla, and the two sisters attack the young firebender with hugs and warm laughter. He sits up slowly with Iroh's help and looks between Tayla, babbling on about how he's such a baby for taking such a long nap, and Jin, hugging him from the side and not letting go for anything.

Zuko's eyes soften as he cups the smooth curve of Jin's cheek with his hand. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"As long as you are," she tells him in a moment so sickly sweet that I might get sick just from watching it. Of course, this makes me a total hypocrite. If it were my eyes Zuko was gazing into with such love, I would welcome any amount of precious sugar.

"Katara, look!" Tayla shouts. "Zuko's okay!"

The firebender stiffens. He looks at the doorway. He looks at _me_.

I'm conscious of the way his shoulders tense and the ripple of reaction tightens his body. The blanket I placed over him yesterday evening has slipped halfway off but still clings to his legs. He throws it aside, watching me. Using Jin and his uncle as crutches, he shakily gets to his feet. I can't read the expression on his face.

I'd once thought such a thing as me liking Zuko couldn't happen, the same way sugar could not taste bitter and water could not run uphill without a bender's guidance. As he walks up to me, I wish I knew the right thing to say. What I want is to pull myself hard against his chest so he'd hold me for a few moments, so I'd know he's really okay after these long days of praying to the spirits he wouldn't die from drugs I was powerless to counteract. It seemed only by touch that I could be sure this was actually real. To fill the long waking hours, I'd worked on lines I wanted to tell him when at last he was awake, but right when I need them most, I can't recall a single one.

"Katara," he says, though his face still gives me no clue as to what he wants me to do.

"I, uh . . . hey. Glad to see you up," I say, finishing up with an awkward grin. _Real nice, Katara_, I congratulate myself._ Real smooth._

He sighs through his nose, a single long sigh accompanied by a sad slant of the eyebrows. If he'd meant for this moment to be anything but silly and cheap, I'd just successfully ruined it. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I'm fine. I—" He tenses again. "Toph and Sokka! Are they—"

"They're all fine, don't worry. Everyone's safe," I assure him.

"They're in the living room," Jin says, tugging on Zuko's sleeve. "Come on, you should go say hi."

She drags him outside, tailed closely behind by Tayla. I stand there watching the empty doorway and imagine all of the ways in which I might have greeting him instead of _uh . . . hey_. I try to consider these various statements objectively, trying to figure out what Zuko would have thought of each one and so, by extension, what he would have thought of me. I sigh. Well, either way I've missed my chance now.

Someone clears his throat. Iroh is standing beside me, smiling knowingly. "There is a word for when a young person sighs like that all day," he says cheerfully.

My heart drops into my stomach. "Yeah, uh . . . _relieved_," I say quickly, the first word that jumped to mind. I grin rather awkwardly, and rather tellingly.

Iroh smiles. "Yes, I suppose that must be it," he agrees, but just before he disappears into the living room, I hear him hum a few notes of some song I remember from long ago. It was when . . . oh, I know. He hummed it back when I walked in on Zuko's first lightning generation lesson. Iroh walked off down the creek humming this very tune, but this time I hear two words snatched from its melody that I didn't hear before_. Four seasons_, Iroh whispers softly to himself. Hmm. I wonder why, after all this time, that particular tune stuck with me. And I wonder what the rest of the lines must say.

Probably what should have happened next is me following Iroh and asking him to sing that song of his in full. There is something calming about the age and wisdom of his voice. Or else I might have gone into the living room and sat around chatting with my friends and brother, wondering how it could be that neither Jin nor Toph nor Sokka remember getting kidnapped even though Zuko's concern seems to show that he remembers just fine.

I might have done one of these two things, except what actually happened instead is a sudden black horror flowed through me as I stepped through the doorway.

This horror began when, somewhere far off, I heard a distant knocking at the entrance door. I saw three people invite themselves in, and it is the person at the head of this small group that had my hands grabbing my water skin. Even if I might one day forget that boy's shaggy mane of brown hair, there is a certain pair of eyebrows that have been forever burned into memory. And I am not pleased to see them again at all.

"Katara!" Jet says cheerfully from across the room, sounding glad to see an old friend. "I heard you guys were living here now. I've got some information that might help you—hey, hold on there!"

I've crystallized the contents of my water skin into a hovering collection of ice spikes. "It's not enough you sold out Iroh and Zuko, huh? You've brought the Dai Li here, haven't you?" Before he can argue, I pin him to a wall with a flurry of ice blades.

Smellerbee and Longshot skid between me and Jet so I don't rip him to pieces, but that doesn't stop me from burning up with rage. "How _dare_ you show up here?" I spit. "After I trusted you _twice_? After I _forgave_ you? And you went and betrayed my friends—"

"Katara, wait," Smellerbee says. "I know what I told you in the teashop. He says I was mistaken. That's not why he went with the Dai Li at all."

"I don't buy it. You're all in some conspiracy now," I snap. "I don't know if I can trust anything you tell us."

There are only a few things that can knock the fight right out of me, and Aang's small hand suddenly holding mine is one of them. "Wait," he tells me, gently giving my fingers a squeeze. "We don't know why they're here. Let's just hear them out."

Jet grins. "Yeah, thanks. At least one of you is rational. I just came to tell you guys I had some information about that missing sky bison of yours, but if you _want _me to go—"

Aang's hand crushes my fingers. I unpin one of the ice daggers and threaten to drive it into Jet's chest. "Don't test me. What do you have to say?" I growl bitterly.

"I thought I owed you guys a favor, so I went to talk to the Dai Li to see if I could find anything out about Appa," Jet explains. "Turns out they're not unwilling to pass along some information if you ask kindly. I know exactly where he is. He's practically in the city."

"So _tell _us," I say, still holding the hovering ice point at his chest.

"I don't know," he says casually. "I don't really feel like talking when I'm threatened—_ahh_!"

Something I didn't know about Jet is he apparently has the capability of squealing like a girl. Thankfully, I discover this pleasant fact when Zuko holds a fistful of fire against Jet's face. "Stop messing around and tell us where Appa is," the firebender snarls. Like me, he's had enough of Jet's games.

"Okay, okay! He's being kept at a place called Lake Laogai. The Dai Li even told me how to get there. If you let me down, I'll even take you there. They showed me the way."

For a group of guards who wouldn't even let Iroh in to see the Earth King, this seems like terribly hospitable behavior. "I don't believe it," I say.

Toph pushes me aside. "Hang on." She places her palm on the wall close to Jet, feeling for his breathing and heart beat. "He's telling the truth," she confirms.

"Please, Katara," Aang begs. "This might be our only chance."

I sigh, but I melt the slivers of ice keeping him pinned to the wall. Jet drops to the floor, rubbing his shoulder. "That one cut close," he complains.

"If you take us to this lake place and Appa's _not _there, I won't miss with my next set," I snap.

Aang is first to the door. "We can leave right now."

Jin, who had been staying out of the argument thus far, suddenly clears her throat. "What about Tayla?" she asks. "Who'll look after her while we're gone?"

"You will," I say. What a stupid question.

Her eyes harden. "No way! I'm coming with you guys."

"Jin, you can't," Zuko tells her. "It's dangerous—"

"Dangerous? Ha," she says. "What's dangerous is living a lie my entire life. I've been told this world is a peaceful place since forever, but apparently there's a war going on just outside the walls of the city. You think I don't care about that? And if the Dai Li are kidnapping people, even kidnapping _me_, you can bet this is my business. I'm going with you guys, no arguments. The spirits had us meet for some reason. I want to find out why, especially if it's to help the Avatar." She laces her fingers with Zuko's. "And there's no talking me out of it, so don't try," she finishes with a smirk.

We defer to Iroh for final judgment. He looks between the young Earth Kingdom girl and his nephew, whose face is tinged red as he halfheartedly fumbles to free his hand from Jin's. Iroh nods gravely. "It is your right to come with us if you desire. I have hired helpers to assist in my tea shop for the time being. They will care for your sister until we return."

"Good," Jin says. "Then it's settled."

I don't like this, but I guess maybe she's right. Perhaps this field trip might help us figure out just why the Dai Li kidnapped our friends. And if we get Appa back, it'll be worth it. It might help heal Aang and heal our friendship. Something has to.

From his place on the floor, Jet sticks a familiar stalk between his teeth. I think he enjoys watching me writhe in emotional turmoil. "Alrighty, then," he says with his terrible grin, the happiest one among us. "Let's get to it."

_A/N: The next chapter, as you probably expect, will be this story's version of "Lake Laogai"—and this raises an interesting dilemma. Within this base of operations for the Dai Li, Jet was fatally wounded by Long Feng in canon. Of course, this time, we have a few more people accompanying the team down to the lake depths—namely, Zuko and Iroh and Jin. Could this possibly impact the course of events that follows? More importantly, will Jet still die (and if he doesn't, will someone else take his place)? And why in the world would the Dai Li **guide **the Avatar and his friends to their secret headquarters? Place your bets, and in December we shall discover just what transpires in the most unwelcoming and dangerous place that is Lake Laogai._

_Edit on November 11, 2012: I've gotten a few absolutely hilarious PMs (they were friendly, yet horrified, messages) from readers starting to correctly figure out where this dream plot is going (**I love hearing your predictions for this dream man more than praise or anything else**). To summarize, the messages sounded like "rah rah rah you, what are you doing?! you'll never pull this off rah rah rah." To those of you who are figuring it out and have similar concerns, I respond with these very carefully chosen lyrics from "He Lives in You" (the opening song to _The Lion King II_ by Lebo M). Make of them what you will, though an observant eye may deduce truth from simple language. _

_Night  
And the spirit of life  
Calling_

_Mamela [Listen]_

_And a voice_  
_With the fear of a child_  
_Answers_

_Oh, mamela [Listen]_

_Ubukhosi bo khokho [Throne of the ancestors]_  
_We ndodana ye sizwe sonke [Oh, son of the nation]_

_Wait_  
_There's no mountain too great_  
_Hear the words and have faith_  
_Have faith_


	29. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 8

_A/N: Yep, early update and no waiting until December. However, no words of mine will do this chapter justice if I have written it well, so I will simply let your own emotions decide if my writing is worthy of the moments that follow. Special thanks goes to the marvelous and brilliant and amazing embodiment of talent that is Like A Dove, whose writing is stunning and must be enjoyed (she's the author of pieces like the highly praised "I Was Not Magnificent" and the hilarious "Come Quietly"). She has beta-read and stamped her approval on this chapter, and now it awaits your judgment. Read on. _

_Edit: Additional special thanks to JackieStarSister for pointing out typos in this chapter and many others and for her general awesomeness. _

Of the journey to the lake shore, which we make first by monorail car and then on foot, I think I'll eventually remember little except for three brief snapshots of time.

The first moment came while Team Avatar plus Jin and the Freedom Fighters were waiting just outside the tea shop while Iroh arranged for some of the workers to care for Tayla in our absence. Jin sat down with her back leaning against the shop and held out her arms. Tayla climbed on her lap, folded her arms around Jin's neck, and rested her small head on her sister's shoulder.

The child's mouth was a pout. "How come you're going again when you just got back?" she complained.

"You goof, it won't be long," Jin said, ruffling her sister's thick hair. "And meantime you behave for these good people, got it? And don't sneak _all _the teacakes or I'll getcha when I get back!" Jin lifted Tayla's shirt and blew into her stomach. The little girl giggled and tugged on her sister's braids to get her to let go.

Iroh peeked out of the shop just as they looked ready to break into a wrestling match right there in the street. "Everything is arranged," he said. "Are we all ready?"

"Yeah,_ okay_," Tayla groaned, "but just _one_ more thing." She marched over to Zuko, who was chatting about something with Toph, and tugged on his sleeve. "Hey, you listen. Come down here."

Zuko smiled and squatted so they were on eye level. "Don't worry, we're all coming back soon. Me included."

"I _know_, but I have a job for you, mister. You look after my sister, you got it? Or when you get back you're going to be in big trouble with me!"

I'll give Zuko this: he kept a straight face as he placed a hand over his heart. "Don't worry," he said seriously. "I promise I'll keep her safe."

Tayla gave him a surprisingly long and penetrating look and Jin came over to join them. "You better," she said.

He pulled the child into his arms as Jin watched. "I _promise_," he said. Tayla nodded and clung to his shirt and buried her face in his neck, and seeing this made my throat tighten. The way she was holding on, you'd think she was scared she'd never see him again even though all we were taking was a quick trip to get Appa back. Tayla backed away into the doorway and stood there looking out. They say children have a much keener sense and insight into some things than adults, and to see her face so pale and serious was to have a cold fist clutch my stomach. I told myself it was only because, just a few hours earlier, we all wondered if Zuko would survive at all and she was afraid to see him go so soon.

Still, as Iroh took Tayla's hand to lead her inside, I couldn't help but remember again that in life there are moments you can never get over no matter how hard you try. They are moments like Zuko's hurt eyes by the creek the night I tried to freeze it without realizing he was afraid of cold water. They are moments like me and Aang and Sokka and Zuko standing over Toph when she slowly shook her head, silently confessing that sandbenders had kidnapped Appa and Iroh. They are moments like me watching Iroh pull Tayla gently into the tea shop. Her wide eyes swept over all of us, and then she broke out of Iroh's grasp and hugged Zuko and Jin at once because they were standing next to each other. She hugged them so hard and whispered _come back soon, okay? _like this promise might keep them safe.

Iroh taking her hand afterward and leading her inside, and the door closing on Tayla's ashen face, is a moment that will stay with me.

The second moment came during the monorail ride when I was alone with Jet. Actually, it began with me being alone with Smellerbee. She tugged me out of a conversation with my brother and asked for a quick private talk. "Sure," I said and followed her down the length of the car until we were out of earshot. "Everything okay?"

"Kind of," she admitted. "I just thought you should know that Jet's been acting a bit off since he got back, and something about his story isn't adding up. The way he tells it, he went to talk to the Dai Li and they told him about Appa and showed him the way to Lake Laogai. But that couldn't have taken three days, and that's how long he was gone."

Three days, just like Sokka, Toph, and Jin. "That's weird," I agreed, my original suspicion growing. "Something definitely doesn't feel right about this, but I don't think Aang's going to give up any chance of finding his friend. We'll just have to be really careful going down there."

Smellerbee sighed. "I'm just worried about him."

"Worried about who, _me_?" We both looked up and there Jet was, playing the cool guy with his shoulder leaning against the wall, though for once without the prairie grass stalk he might as well permanently fix to his mouth. "Longshot wants you," he told Smellerbee, a phrase which actually meant _I get a private talk with Katara next._

When she was gone, he sat on the bench beside me. "Still mad?" he asked.

"What do you want now?"

"To talk. Or what, I'm not allowed that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I can't decide if you're actually on our side."

Jet raised one eyebrow at me. "I haven't proven that?"

"You know Zuko is the Fire Lord's son, and we both know what you think about firebenders. We trust you enough to check out this Lake Laogai place, but honestly, you have plenty of reason to mislead us."

"_Me?_ Come on. You're so quick to forget how much I helped you out in the Serpent's Pass?"

No, and that's precisely the reason I was sitting next to him at all. I remembered Jet helping the passengers climb over the railing and distracting the serpent with his hook swords so Aang and I could help get everyone safely to shore. I remembered him joining us in a mission to take down the Fire Nation drill. Most of all, though, I remembered realizing my brother and Zuko were somewhere down with the sinking _Titan_, and Jet swimming down there with me through water like ice, and finding our friends trapped in a submerged kitchen closet, and him taking my brother while I took Zuko and us swimming to shore. What I remembered, and what I will always remember, is Jet wrenching the closet door open and scooping up an unconscious Sokka while Zuko lunged for me and held on tight. We swam up through water touched by a very distant light, and when my brother and Zuko depended on us for their lives, it was Jet who sent me a glance across the translucent space of sea between us because he was here to help me. In some other life, we would have made good friends. We still might once the war is over, especially since it seems he's really gotten over his hate for firebenders—or, at least, that he's keeping it tucked in some dark corner of his heart where at least it won't hurt Zuko or Iroh.

From the monorail ride, here is what I will remember: Jet smiling as he awaited an answer, and me nodding and saying _yeah, I guess you're alright _even though, somewhere at the very back of my mind, a small voice whispered _remember what Smellerbee said_.

The third moment—and this is the one I will probably remember clearest of all—came when the misty shoreline of Lake Laogai was maybe five more minutes of walking away. Jin was up ahead with Zuko, chatting about some upcoming city event. I had taken up the rear so I had a good vantage point from which to watch them. Zuko and Jin, talking. Great.

Iroh glanced back, saw me lagging, and slowed down to fall in step beside me. "And why are you so far behind the others? Tell me, why are you upset?

"Reasons," I said unhelpfully, hoping he'd leave me alone.

He chuckled. "Nonsense. There are not multiple reasons, only one. And even if you choose to remain stubborn about it, it's already quite clear."

I sighed. "We're going one a wild chase for Appa to some sketchy lake based on trusting Jet's word."

"Yes, and that has absolutely nothing to do with it. Believe me, in my long life, I have learned that sighs like yours can only mean one thing. Don't deny it."

I stared down very intently and focused on my feet taking long strides so I didn't have to look at Iroh and reveal my blush. "No, really. I'm fine. It's not important anyway."

"Hmm. I see," he said casually. "Well, regardless, I have a story that might cheer you up. Would you like to know more about my arrival in Ba Sing Se?"

What relevance that had to the conversation, I couldn't possibly imagine. "Sure," I said, not wanting to be disrespectful.

"After a very long journey, I was very tired," he began thoughtfully. "You can imagine how glad I was to sit down for a long, restful nap on the monorail car ride from the outer wall to the city. But do you know what happened? I was woken up right in the middle, and by tea! It was the scent of some of the finest tea I ever tasted. Do you know who I met on my monorail ride?"

"Uh . . . the tea shop owner who hired you as a server?" I guessed.

"Ah, yes!" Iroh said. "He was also taking the track that day to his home in the upper ring, and he tasted this tea and was _very _impressed. I prepared some of my own tea later in the shop and impressed him more"—he grins, pleased with himself—"but the tea that woke us both was fantastic and not my own. And it was prepared by our own Jin! We had stopped at a station in the lower ring to pick up passengers and she came onboard, too, trying to sell her tea to earn an income."

Hmm. The first day I met Jin, I remember thinking it odd that she was in the restricted upper ring even though she seemed dressed like a lower-class citizen. Probably this is how she got the invitation.

"The tea shop owner himself happens to be an old friend of mine. Having friends is very important," Iroh mused. "On my many voyages throughout the world, I have seen large ships and small ships and find that friendship is the greatest of them all."

Up ahead, Zuko chuckled at some joke Jin just made. I sighed again, though Iroh's words did make me feel a bit better since my friends are the best in the world. If only there weren't other important ships to think about, too.

"And do you know why I think it happens to be a wonderful thing that Jin was hired to work at the tea shop?" Iroh went on.

"Uh . . . better tea means happier customers?"

He smiled gently. "Because she met my nephew and opened his heart to love."

Oh, that's _right_. Of _course_. "Yeah. She's pretty amazing," I grumbled.

"Wrong! She could have been nearly anyone. What matters is she is not afraid to take initiative. She was not scared to arrange a date, although she carefully did this by speaking to _me _first. She admits what she feels, but _gently_, and _this_ is what has warmed my nephew towards her. Katara, you must understand that he has gone through much and life has left him with more than visible scars. He will not reach out easily. It takes a wise woman to see that confession is always weakness for a man only beginning to heal. But if he will say nothing, then she must be the one to reach out slowly and carefully. Being too blunt and direct will also frighten a young man off. There is a balance to push and pull in love, as in all things."

Iroh paused long enough for me to realize there was pain building in the general region of my chest.

"When I was a boy, I discovered a beautiful turtle duck pond in the palace," he said. "Even as an adult, I often returned there to feed my friends. Do you know how to befriend wild turtle ducks? You begin by setting out bread. If you don't look at them, they will eat. After you do this for a few days you can begin making brief sideways glances, never facing the turtle ducks directly. If you make eye contact, you must look away quickly and always make soft eyes. Humility is the key to trust. Eventually, you can turn to look at them and, slowly, begin to make eye contact with your friendly gaze. Sometimes it takes a while, and you must continue to show yourself to not be a threat. You must always be humble, and if you are, you will find that the turtle ducks will come to you in time. When you finally open your palm to a wild bird and it willingly comes gently to your hand, and you look into one another's eyes, you understand that the long journey of trust has been for a precious and unbreakable bond."

We were nearly at the lake shore, but for a moment Iroh stopped and we looked at each other. I have learned that eyes are the language of intent, and his said _you love my nephew and I have done what I can to help_. Zuko's heart was open now thanks to Jin, who honestly did more than open his heart. She opened my eyes to my real feelings, ones it was time to act on in more ways than one stupid kiss that was more me attacking Zuko's mouth than anything. To befriend a turtle duck takes time, and patience, and a quiet moment alone. Next time Zuko and I are alone together, I'll bring up the restaurant night. I'll pretend to apologize for the kiss, but really it will just be me opening my palm to a wild boy to see if he will come willingly. They say if you want something from someone, give that person a way to give it to you. Iroh's right. I have to give Zuko a way and be the one to risk confession in an honest and gentle way.

The final of three moments I will remember is the thing Iroh said as he wrapped me in a hug. "Love grows from a single soul inhabiting two bodies," he whispered in my ear. "From what my nephew has told me about you, I have faith your love may become like a spirit bond in its strength. Kiss not to set fire to a moment but to speak when words fail to say that which you most want to express, and then you will be kissing not lips but a man's very heart."

Those three snapshots of time have brought us here, right now, to the misty shores of Lake Laogai where we are about to begin our descent.

"This is as far as the Dai Li showed me," Jet says. "I think we're supposed to figure out the rest on our own."

"Well, that's helpful," Sokka complains. "You couldn't have asked for a map of some kind? And are we supposed to swim down there or . . . what?"

Toph walks along the water's edge. "Hmm. We're supposed to get under the lake, huh? There's a tunnel right there near the shore." She leaps and lands with her arms swept out, completing an earthbending move that raises a stone pathway to the water surface. She walks along it to a disc in the ground, which she easily bends aside. We peer into the dark shaft beneath it where a narrow ladder leads down to a small circle of pale light.

She's grinning. "See, no swimming required."

"Nice, very nice," my brother says. They exchange a quick high-five.

"I'll go first," Zuko offers. He swings onto the ladder and starts to climb, followed closely behind by my brother. I wait for almost last to go since I made the brilliant move of strapping on the swords and they're throwing off my balance in action. I'm half-scared I'll fall off the ladder with them, but I couldn't leave them behind since I'm getting decently good and they might come in use. Jin doesn't go down right off, either, and we're both left standing at the top looking down into the gloom after everyone else is gone.

"You first," she says nervously.

"It's just a tunnel," I say for both our benefits.

"Yeah, but what about everything else beneath it?"

For the first time, I realize she's shaking. "Hey." I touch her arm. "We're going to be okay. Trust me. We've been through some crazy stuff on the way to the city, and we've always made it out just fine."

Jin looks back toward shore. "I want to go because I want to help you guys, but if something happens, who's going to take care of my sister?"

"_You_ will, because nothing's going to happen," I assure her. "You really ask some stupid questions."

We're both smiling.

"Alright, but you watch my back," she says.

"With those knives of yours, you'll be one watching mine. Now, come on." I step down onto the ladder and feel the precarious pull of gravity on my swords, trying to unbalance me. "Let's go."

As we go down the ladder, I remember what Jin showed us back at the tea shop. Apparently, life in the lower ring for two young girls with no parental protection meant defending yourself a lot from creeps like the ones who attacked me when I got lost. Some street thugs who took pity on Jin a few years back taught her some tricks with knives. Now she's handy with a set of long sharp blades, serrated near the handle for close-combat cutting. Kind of like Mai, I muse.

Once we're both at the bottom, we see we're in a tunnel that leads two ways. Both directions are lit by green stone lanterns that cast a pale and sickly glow across the smooth walls and floor.

"We should split up to cover ground more quickly," Zuko says. "I'll take a team and Aang can take one. Uncle, will you come with me?"

Toph looks like she's about to make a lunge for Zuko, only Jin beats her to his side. "I'm on Team Zuko!" she says cheerfully.

Though I originally wanted to stick with my brother and Aang, that doesn't leave me with much choice. "Me, too," I say, joining the group of four. "I guess if we take one more," I realize, counting, "we'll be split even."

Jet sidles up. He leans in close enough that if he had his prairie grass, it would probably be poking in my face. "Today's your lucky day, sweetheart," he coos. "I'll do you the favor of getting on Team Zuko, too."

"Great," Toph groans. "Leave the rest of us to go off on a fun tunnel adventure with Twinkletoes. Come on, Snoozles." She grabs Sokka by the collar and drags him off after Aang, Smellerbee, and Longshot. Momo chirps from Aang's shoulder, his ears swiveled back. We watch them go, and then Iroh, Zuko, Jin, Jet, and I set off in the other direction. Surprisingly, Jin sticks close to me than to Zuko. Maybe something about me being the only other girl, or maybe just because I'm the one she confessed her fear to before we came down here.

We're not far in when we hear footsteps ahead. "Company," Zuko whispers. "Get down!" We hide in a shallow alcove leading off the main wide passageway and remain concealed in the dark as a pair of Dai Li agents walk past us.

"You know, we could just go ask them about Appa," Jet suggests when the guards are out of eartshot. "I mean, they did tell me he's here. Why shouldn't they help us now?"

We glance at each other. That's actually not a bad point, only I remember what Smellerbee said about something being off about Jet's story. "I don't know," I say. "How about we just look around first."

"Yes," Iroh agrees. "It is quite strange to have such a series of passageways hidden beneath a lake. With all of these agents around, I suspect this may be a headquarters for something more sinister than it seems."

We sneak ahead through another tunnel, until suddenly I realize Jin's no longer beside me. "Jin?" I call, glancing back.

"Guys," she whispers, waving us back. She's edged up to a partially opened door. "Check this out."

She scoots out of the way and I take my turn at peeking. Inside are rows of women dressed just like that Joo Dee who met us when we arrived at the city and tried to babysit us during our initial few days in the city until we met Long Feng. Their wide eyes stare blankly, without blinking, at a Dai Li agent instructing them in a certain speech.

"I'm Joo Dee," the agent says. "Welcome to Ba Sing Se."

"I'm Joo Dee," the women echo in unison. "Welcome to Ba Sing Se."

I pull back and swallow a gasp. With the eerie green light cast across their faces, it's like they're under hypnosis . . . or . . . being brainwashed? The rest of the city is practically brainwashed, made to believe they live in a world with no war. This would only be a slight extension of the concept. Hmm. While Zuko and Iroh check out the creepy Joo Dees, I think for a second about how despite being kidnapped, neither Sokka nor Toph nor Jin had any memory of that restaurant evening. I think, too, of how Jet's story didn't quite satisfy Smellerbee's timeline. And _why _would the Dai Li guide us down here, unless . . .

I suddenly realize Jet's no longer among us. "Where'd he go?" I ask.

"Over here!" he calls loudly. I whirl to see him standing between two Dai Li agents, who seem to be entirely unperturbed by our presence.

Zuko's mouth twitches. "I thought we agreed—"

"Don't worry," Jet says calmly. "While you guys were messing around, I asked these guys and they say they'll take us straight to Appa. See, I'm telling you. They're our friends." And I think by his genuine smile, he seriously believes that. Either way, we don't have a choice now. With a deep breath, I follow Jet and his Dai Li friends to a sealed stone door. They slide the door aside and lead us through. It's certainly a cell big enough to hold Appa. Maybe it's not a trick after all.

At least, this is what I think until we enter and the stone door abruptly slides shut behind us.

"Thank you, Jet, for leading not even one but _two_ firebenders to me, banished son of the Fire Lord and the mighty Dragon of the West," Long Feng says grimly from where he stands by the far wall of the chamber. "Your assistance in capturing these enemies of the state is appreciated."

Jet blinks, genuinely surprised. "Huh? What are you—"

But Long Feng doesn't have time to listen. His eyes flicker towards the ceiling. "Once they're finished, take whoever is left into custody," he orders. I look up and only now do I notice Dai Li agents high above up, suspended from chains or clinging to the ceiling itself.

"Hey, listen!" Jet argues. "I was told to bring the Avatar down here so he could get his sky bison. What's with this custody stuff?"

But the pieces are coming together in my mind. As Smellerbee suspected, Jet _did_ go to report the Fire Lord's son being in the city. When the Dai Li tried to capture him the first time after the restaurant, Zuko alone managed to escape—proving he wouldn't be as easy to catch as the rest of our friends. Of course, Jet only met Zuko and could only have reported him. He never saw Iroh, but it's clear how they found out about such a famous bender. Iroh himself suspected that since the Dai Li made the first move, they would be tracking our location carefully. Under careful observation, it would be easy to recognize a man whose title and status is very clear to Long Feng. Iroh would be even more difficult to trap than Zuko without a public showing. Luring us down here with the promise of Appa was a quick and clean way to lock both firebenders away for the rest of their days.

Only . . . the Dai Li aren't attacking. At least, not yet.

"Unfortunately, I have found the Fire Nation exceptionally unwilling to bargain," Long Feng says. "So I have no use for you"—he glances at Zuko, then at Iroh—"to clutter up my prisons. Instead, we shall play a game while my agents search the rest of this compound. I'm certain the Avatar is around here, too, looking for his precious bison. Perhaps we will get lucky and find his bison, or perhaps we will find the Avatar first."

"If you think you can intimidate us, you can't," Jin snaps. The knives are in her hands, shining even in the pale lantern glow. "We can take you and all your agents on. Just bring it!"

"My agents will collect what remains of your bodies when you have finished each other off."

Jin's face is all fire. I expect her to prove she's a bender after all any second now. "No way you're hurting my friends. Not on my watch."

Long Feng nods. "Of course I won't hurt them. _You _will."

"Are you crazy or what?"

"No, but I do think I'm about to enjoy watching faithful Earth Kingdom citizens fight for their beloved home against that very nation which believes it can own the world. Jin, Jet"—the very smallest breath of a smile tugs at the corners of Long Feng's mouth—"the Earth King has invited you to Lake Laogai."

Two things happen at once. I yell _what are you taking about _as Jin and Jet, their pupils dilating, say _I am honored to accept his invitation_. The next thing I know, Jin is behind me and has cut through the strings keeping the water skin on my back. She throws it to Jet, who catches it on his hook swords and flings the skin to Long Feng with a great force of torque. The Dai Li leader catches it neatly. "Now this will be a more even game," he says. "Begin."

Jin goes straight for Zuko while Jet comes right at me. A trio of Dai Li agents drop from the ceiling to deal with Iroh, whose fists are already filled with flames. I only have time to see one of Jin's knives catch Zuko across the shoulder, opening a gash that sends a gush of blood running down his chest and arm, before I have to draw on the only weapons I've got left to protect myself from Jet. We stare each other down, hook swords versus dual dao.

He takes a slash at my neck. I deflect the attack and jump backwards. Quickly reversing my footing as Zuko has taught me, I charge and swing both swords at Jet's feet. He leaps back, landing in a crouching position, and returns the charge. We swing together and both pairs of weapons clash. His blank eyes don't leave mine, but I look aside just briefly to see how my friends are faring.

Two Dai Li men are already unconscious on the ground, though a few more agents have joined the fray to take down Iroh. He sends a fireball at the ceiling, coaxing another handful of agents down. With his bending, he's like a one-man army. I muse for a moment that, if Iroh were the brainwashed one, not even all of my friends together could probably take him down. Good thing he's on our side.

But right now, I have to focus on gaining control from Jet. He strikes again, and though I manage to block it our swords lock. However much Zuko has taught me, Jet's been doing this his whole life. I'm already starting to tire, my muscles meant for waterbending and not for swordplay. Jet shoves hard and sends me backwards, himself spinning and swinging his swords at my stomach. I deflect the strike, but the force of my momentum sends me spinning too far to the left. My whole right side is wide open, and Jet's blade is already humming at my ribs.

There's a clang of metal on metal, but this time it's Zuko whose blades have intercepted Jet's. He must have been using the swords to defend himself from Jin's knives without actively hurting her with firebending. "Get your water skin back," he hisses at me, then runs off with Jet in close pursuit. Oh. Well, duh. My eyes cut to Long Feng. As I charge, I form this realization: _Zuko just saved my life_.

I see the Dai Li leader glance to my left, and this also saves my life. Because when I follow his eyes, I see Jin running at me clutching three knives in her fist. The first knife goes in my left shoulder and stays there. I cut the second out of the air with my swords, though I gasp, the sharpness of pain from the first knife threatening to knock me out.

"Jin, stop it!" I yell desperately. "It's me, Katara. I'm your friend, and you don't have to do this."

Her response is throwing the third knife, which cuts a gash across my forehead. Blood blinds my eyes, and I stumble, the metallic taste filling my mouth. A body slams into me, knocking me flat on my back and the swords out of my grasp. Jin pins my arms down with her knees. I know what will happen next. She will rip the serrated knife from my shoulder, the knife wet and slick with my own blood, and cut into my throat. Already, her hand has grabbed the handle.

"Zuko!" I scream. At the end of everything, he's the only coherent thought I've got left.

She's ripped off my body by Zuko hurtling sideway into her, his swords now sheathed. I shriek as the knife is ripped from my shoulder by the force of Jin's grip. They tumble over on the cold stone floor until they roll to a halt, the firebender pinning her. "Jin, you have to remember you're not with them. You're with us."

She stabs the knife coated with my blood into his side. Tearing it back out so fresh blood courses over Zuko's shirt, she aims a stab for his heart. He catches her wrist, his face braced for agony or already in it, and suddenly he pushes her down and kisses her against the stone floor. He kisses her, and Jin drops the knife in surprise or shock.

He kisses her, and Jin comes back to us.

"Zuko," she murmurs when he pulls away. Something about their bond must have cut through the mental fog of brainwashing the Dai Li tried to cast. And if it worked on Jin—I try not to think about the image of Zuko kissing her, not yet—then there must be a way to bring Jet back by forcing him to remember.

I sit up despite the ripping pain through my shoulder. "Jet!" I yell. "Jet, we're your friends. They can't make you fight us."

His gaze cuts to me from where he, too, was trying to deal with Iroh. He raises his hook swords. "Finish off that waterbender," Long Feng instructs. Jet runs right at me.

Panting hard, Zuko skids between us. His swords are back out now, sparring with Jet to keep him back from me. I brace my hands against the floor to keep from falling. I wipe blood out of my eyes with the back of my hand. "Jet," I call weakly. Now I'm pleading. "Jet, please. It's me, Katara. I'm your friend, and no one can make you fight us."

From a distance, Long Feng smiles coldly. "I'm afraid you don't understand. He no longer has a choice."

"Jet, _please_," I beg desperately. "Don't you remember swimming with down to the sinking ship? You saved Zuko's life, too. Remember the serpent? Remember the Serpent's Pass?"

He's panting now, too, and though his eyes stay inky pools of shadow there's sweat running down his face. He's tiring, but so is Zuko. And even though Iroh has knocked out many Dai Li agents, there are still more to fight off and I don't know how much longer any of us can last—me included.

"Do your duty, Jet," Long Feng says.

"Jet, you're not on their side!" I shout. "You're a Freedom Fighter!"

But it's not enough. Not for Jet in this state. He comes at me and I'm forced to struggle to my feet and hold up my swords with shaking hands. I can't fight him for long. Not like this. His arms swing wide, and the swords come racing inward at my sides. I barely manage to block them. There's a wide gap between us, my swords pushing out and his pushing in, and suddenly all I can think about is the kiss that returned Jin to us. I close my eyes as the wound pulses in my shoulder and I know this is it, my last stand. There's only one chance. To bring him back, I have to risk it.

I break my swords out of the lock and drop them. Before Jet can strike again, while there is still empty space between us, I lunge forward and press against his body. My hands go to either side of his jaw, and I take his mouth with mine.

In a last desperate act, I kiss Jet to bring him home.

At this, he freezes and straightens up. I look into his eyes and see they're full not of darkness now but of fog. He looks startled, and the skin over his eyes sags down onto his eyelids. He looks down at the ground, and meanwhile I've backed up a few steps and am filling my lungs with air, just trying to steady myself. But I can't, and I drop to my hands and knees. I sit back. My hands go to my head and I lean forward, just trying to breathe. "Jet," I call, though it's probably too weak for him to hear. "Jet, you have to remember."

"Fight them! Fight them now!" Long Feng orders.

But with a snarl of rage, Jet whirls and hurls one of his swords directly at Long Feng. Another Dai Li agent intercepts the weapon with a fist of rock, though there are only two or three of them left to fight Iroh. The rest have been taken down by the one-man force that is the Dragon of the West. Zuko is helping Jin up, and Jet has kneeled down to help me sit. I pant against his shoulder like the wounded creature I am. And there's blood on my arm, on my chest, on my face, and still no water to heal myself or any of my friends.

While I hold on to Jet, I hear Long Feng say a very simple thing from a very long distance away. He says _they say dragons are extinct, but there is one left . . . it is time for that saying to hold true in all case_, and in a moment of sharp revelation I know what's coming. I yell _Iroh _as Long Feng's fist shoots straight out in the start of an earthbending move. Iroh looks at me, which is the exact opposite direction in which he should be looking, but either way an out-thrust of stone is already coming. Zuko sees it, too, and shrieks _Uncle. _But even before Iroh turns around, the accelerating force of the stone column has reached him.

A momentary wave of dust falls over Iroh. When it clears, I see that the full brunt of the strike has left him motionless on the ground. Zuko cuts down the final two Dai Li agents, one left and one right, and drops to his uncle's side. Long Feng lifts himself to the entrance of a high tunnel on a column of stone.

"Foolish firebenders," he says. "At least now the last dragon is dead." And with that, he turns and vanishes down the dark passage and leaves us alone in the blood and dust.

Everything that follows this moment comes to me in a great haze.

The blood loss from my shoulder and forehead has left me weak and unable to stand. Jet lifts me up, one hand beneath the crook of my knees and the other supporting my back. He follows Zuko out, who is carrying his uncle, with Jin right behind us. I swim in and out of consciousness as we run through the tunnels back the way we came, looking for the ladder and the way out. I roll my face against Jet's arm, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold on. I've got a lot of healing to do once we're out of here. I have to stay focused until we reach the lake.

In a few minutes, the feel of light on my eyelids pulls me towards awakening. The cold smell of water lets me know we're either out of the tunnels or nearly there. Someone is setting me down on coarse sand. This person is Jet, I remember. My mind is cloudy and it's hard to remember anything.

"Katara?" Someone else is shaking my shoulder. "Katara, there's water here. You have to heal yourself and my uncle. Katara!"

But I'm distracted by familiar animal grumbling from somewhere far off. I open my eyes and see, on a different shore of the lake, many Dai Li agents and a great white animal among them. "Appa," I murmur. Aang must have found him after all and freed him from the headquarters below.

Zuko lifts me up and carries me closer to the water. He helps me sit and lowers my hands in the water. "My uncle's hurt, and so are you." He places my hand on my own shoulder so I feel the open wound. "You need to focus. _Please_."

The simple fact of Zuko holding me is enough to leave me weak and dizzy, but I understand the urgency in his voice. Water flows over my shoulder, and I heal the gash. This doesn't restore my blood loss, though, and it's all I can do to cling to Zuko and not faint. He carries me over to his uncle and sets me down. "Now heal him," he says, choosing his uncle's injuries over his own.

Feeling just a little better, I smooth a layer of healing water over Iroh's chest to inspect the damage. I whisper _you'll be okay_ as if the comforting words could change what my healing powers know isn't looking good at all. Zuko kneels beside me. His fingers touch my arm. His hands are shaking. He has to ask _how is it _several times before I hear it.

"This isn't good," I admit, quietly so only he hears.

His throat is tight with tears. He has to swallow twice to speak. "You're a _healer_."

For these brief moments I try not to think of the obvious, which is that if only I were a better waterbender and maybe not so tired I could answer with something more than: "I can only make this less painful."

At this moment, a great force of wind and dust sweeps over us. Appa has landed on the beach with all of our friends safely on his back. "Guys, come on!" Aang calls. "Guys—Iroh? Oh, no."

The Avatar helps airbend Iroh gently onto the saddle and we take off. I do what I can with my water to lesson Iroh's pain. Beside me, Zuko holds one palm open and looks hard at its creased lines. Maybe he's wishing for his fire to be more healing than my failing water. He gasps suddenly and grabs his side where Jin stabbed him. There's blood on his hands now, too.

"Spirit water," he says suddenly.

"Zuko—"

"You healed me with water from that vial around your neck!" He grabs my collar with his red-stained hands and drags me closer. "Where is it? Where'd you hide it?"

"I used it all on you," I remind him.

His eyes are fire. "What? No, you're lying! Give it to me!"

"I _can't_. I don't have any left."

Zuko's eyes narrow, and he's breathing hard, and suddenly I'm worried he'll grab a fistful of my hair or try to search me for the vial. He seems crazed with anguish, as if this loss is unbearable beyond any measure I can ever understand. Like he's reliving a pain he'd kept locked up all this time, but now it was set loose again. I'm again seeing into that dark doorway he keeps hidden in his heart, the black place he sealed up and we all thought he'd never return to again.

"Zuko," Iroh whispers urgently. His nephew pushes past me and bows low over his uncle's head. Aang and Sokka each sit on one of my sides, helping to keep me steady so I can keep my healing water over the internal bleeding I sense deep within Iroh's body.

"You're going to be okay," Zuko tells his uncle, trying to smile, but it doesn't take seismic sense for all of us to know he's lying.

"I have a few small requests," Iroh says, slowly. He seems more tired now than I have ever seen him. And beneath my hands, through the force of water healing, the bleeding shows no signs of letting up.

"Anything," Zuko says, tears flowing freely now.

"Try not to lose your way, because I sense it will be _you _that will restore peace to the world and honor to the Fire Nation. I only wish I could see the light coming off you the day this war is finally over. You also have a marvelous talent for music, and especially for singing, but you use your voice so little. Will you sing something for me? Will you sing my favorite song and promise to sing more often from now on?"

Zuko's mouth opens, but his throat must be so tight with tears that he can't even form one word. He's choking on grief, but for his uncle's sake, he nods and whispers _I promise _and begins.

_Leaves from the vine_

_Falling so slow_

_Like fragile, tiny shells _

_Drifting in the foam_

And Zuko's voice is more remarkable, more gentle than I would have imagined. It cuts right through my heart with its softness and pure life. The quiet lull of the melody flutters Iroh's eyes shut. His chest is moving only slightly now, fighting for a few more breaths so his nephew can finish the music that warms the world like candlelight.

_Little soldier boy_

_Come marching home_

_Brave soldier boy—_

But Zuko can't go on. He buries his face in his uncle's shirt, sobbing, letting the clothes soak up his tears like the sponge Iroh has always been for his grief. His uncle's hand moves into his nephew's dark hair and brushes it gently. I close my eyes because I feel like it's me who's dying. And then, with a voice so soft it almost seems to be coming from inside me, Iroh finishes off the song:

"Brave soldier boy," he whispers. "I'm marching home."

_A/N: I only have one single request for some kind artist who may have some spare time. I wish someone with more talent than myself would capture this final scene in art so it may honor the memory of a man who has done so much and whose long journey is finally, sadly, at its end. I also hope you will leave a few words to tell me how you are feeling right now, at this moment. And in the meantime, I am off to cry. My own typing hands, what have you done?_

_P.S. "The Crossroads of Destiny" is exactly two chapters from now. Hmm . . . _


	30. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 9

_A/N: Two super long updates in less than one week? What up now, bro? Thankfully Thanksgiving break from college has given me some extra time, so Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy this new chapter as your gift (personally, I am very much thankful for your support through reviews, favorites, and follows)! I bow once more to Iroh's memory, but now we must look to the future. We stand before a moment of great decision in the next chapter and, a few chapters from now, an even more groundbreaking revelation that will hopefully establish a unique fanfiction niche for "Fire and Ice." As of this chapter, you should now have enough clues to definitively determine the identity of Katara's dream man. I'll be honest in saying that, when I first started writing this saga, I actually thought through the story of Katara and her dream man first and then interlaced it with Zutara. I guarantee there has never been a journey like what these two most unlikely of (allies?) will have to experience together before this saga is through (what else did you expect me to occupy the remaining SIX parts with, pure Zutara fluff?). Special thanks to my dear friend concept human for lending his time and keen beta-reading eye to improve this chapter (tremendously, might I add)._

_Edit: I have had so many questions with regards to this that let me just make a statement: the man of Katara's dreams is a CANON character, not an OC. Satisfied? :D And I **promise **everything will make sense in the end. I've written out the entire plot, so it's not like I'm making random stuff up as I go along and risk writing myself into a corner. To address additional immediate concerns, it was **not **a typo to say that the dream man helps Katara take down the Fire Lord. He will do exactly that: actually confront the reigning Fire Lord, who is defined as the supreme leader of the Fire Nation, usually a powerful firebender, who may be either male or female and who resides in the Royal Palace located in the Fire Nation Capital. And no more hints, so don't ask! XD _

Why do we dream?

Why do the spirits help us enter a state of consciousness every night in which we could be or experience anything imaginable? Why in recent days do I seem to dream either of nothing or of the same recurring vision in various forms? I mean this Fire Nation man, of course, the one whose name I never got from Iroh and now won't know until and if we meet. I dreamed of him the night of Iroh's death. I dreamed of him the night after. I dreamed of him the night after that. If the spirits mean to tell me something, maybe the increasing frequency of these visions suggests our paths will cross very soon.

Here are the three dreams I had on those three consecutive nights.

When I am especially sad, as I was the evening of Lake Laogai, the spirits tend to send me good dreams to chase away the darkness of that day. This is probably why, on the first night, the whisper of birdsong and a familiar tune stir me—though I don't fully open my eyes right away. I peek through my lashes at deep forest and a few threads of golden afternoon sunlight coming through the canopy. I'm leaning to one side against a warm surface. My fingers cling to matted red and black robes with small rips in the fabric. I must have fallen asleep and in this half-sitting position. Someone is humming a song into my hair. I fully close my eyes and listen, content with this melody.

_Four seasons_, I murmur when we come to the one snippet I know.

A deep chuckle interrupts the song. _Awake at last, I see. I caught breakfast, though I believe it may be late enough for lunch._ My friend from the beach house hands over some fried eggs and a few roasted chunks of meat on a wide leaf. _While you eat, I will see if I can find us a new shelter._

_Sing the words_, I say. From what I can see of my own pants and shirt, they're also matted, dirty, and somewhat ripped as if I haven't been around civilization for some time.

_You know my brother was the singer. I don't engage in such affairs. My voice is entirely subpar. _He says all of this quite smugly, having already anticipated my response.

_Liar! You're just like Zuko, great voice and you never use it. Come on, please?_ For some reason, this song is important to me. Or maybe it's just that I don't want him to leave when somewhere down in my stomach, I feel like I've never been in a safer place.

_Oh, that's just beautiful. You're already pleading. _I can't see his face, but from the quality of his voice I suspect he's grinning wickedly._ How will you force me? I think I would enjoy you begging at my feet. _

Somehow I know it's all talk and harmless banter. I roll my eyes. _Fine, whatever. But then this_—I fold my arms protectively around the leaf with breakfast—_is mine. So you can just back off. _

He gives a long, pointed sigh. _Resorting to threats? Come now, I expected better. But, very well. You're tired and not on your best game, I understand. I shall humor you simply out of the boundless unconditional kindness of my heart._ He pauses and, when I say nothing, adds: _Well? You should thank me. _

I snort. _Sure, no conditions whatsoever. We'll have to start working on humility next, though I'll give you credit. You've gotten better since you helped us take down the Fire Lord. _

_Try not to push your luck, _he suggests, but at my request he sings the song that means there is hope in the coming years across frost and the first bloom of flowers and heat and the death of the living world. He sings and, though deeper than Zuko's, his voice warms my heart like a soft flame glowing inside my chest. He sings.

_Winter, spring,_

_Summer and fall._

_Winter, spring,_

_Summer and fall._

More than anything, I want to never leave this place of lazy comfort. If Zuko and my brother and all our friends were here, too, I would agree to stay in this dream forever.

_Four seasons,_

_Four loves_

_Four seasons_

_For love_, I finish, somehow knowing how it must end.

_For love_, he agrees, and around us the birds go on warbling and the world goes on spinning despite the strange things happening in it.

On the second night, I pass from one sensation of darkness into another. From the rhythmic rocking of my body, I feel like I'm suddenly in motion. Someone has tucked an arm beneath the crease of my knees and another under my back, like I'm being carried. An unnatural weakness and the sting of small cuts all over my body keep me still. I wonder if I'm being taken out of the Dai Li headquarters again by Jet.

A drop falls on my cheek. I touch it and open my eyes to see. I expect rain or maybe a tear, but the red stain on my fingertips is blood.

_You passed out briefly_, my friend informs me. There's no headpiece in his long hair, no regality to his bleeding mouth or the cut on his forehead.

I touch my fingers to his neck, the closest exposed skin, and feel for the flow of blood through his body. _You're hurt_, I say weakly, sensing diversions of blood through many lacerations of varying depth and severity. The worst is on his right side, a deep and ugly cut bleeding freely just below the ribcage. _You have to stop._

He shakes his head. _No, we're not far enough away yet. The soldiers will find us too quickly._

_But I have to heal you. _

I think he tries to smile, but a sudden spasm of pain contorts his face instead. _With what water? From that container they ripped off your back?_

_Find a river. You'll bleed to death._

Though my weight is probably nothing more than tissue paper in his strong arms, I feel him shaking from the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. The blood loss is taking a toll, even for a man of his strength. He staggers. Sensing weakness, he gently lowers me onto a cushion of leaves and moss before slumping over on the dirt of the forest floor. I roll up to elbows and my hands reach out. Despite my weakness I close my eyes, feeling for nearby water.

Whether I did find that water or not, I can only guess by the contents of my final dream on the third night. When I open my eyes my hands are still raised in front of me, but now I'm standing in nearly pitch forest darkness except for the distant glow of a brilliant full moon through the lush canopy. Leaves crunch a few feet away. I whip around, prepared to fight.

_So you thought you could run away?_ my friend says coldly, lifting a wide fern leaf and stepping beneath its archway. He's limping, his right side now bandaged up. For the first time in all of these visions, it occurs to me that he's always wearing those same robes that essentially amount to a dress. Who runs around in the wild in a dress, especially when we're apparently actively being attacked? For a high-ranking Fire Nation man who I hoped might be one of the Fire Lord's trusted generals, he's not very smart when it comes to wilderness survival. Or maybe he's an armchair general who leads from the Fire Nation and has personally never had to actually make his own way outside of a cushy life.

_You can't stop me_, I say. My voice is ice to match his.

_If you do this, they will never let you return home. You will never marry Zuko. You will never even see him again._

My hands and shoulders are shaking, but I stare him down. _I don't have a choice._

_We could hide further inland—_

_You know why we can't keep hiding! All of those people are counting on us to keep their secret. The longer we hide, the deeper into the island those soldiers will search to get me back. And if they find the villages—_

_So what do you propose?_ he snarls. _That I watch you walk away and let them take you?_

_Yes_, I say, my voice nearly breaking on the word. I swallow. _That's what you do in war_,I explain firmly. If I betray any hesitation, he won't do what he has to. _Sometimes protecting the people who need you means giving up everything._

_The war is over._ His eyes darken with fury, darken with fire and anger at the unfairness of life. _And I won't let you sacrifice yourself like this. _

I have no weapons, no water skin, but my fingers flex. Even from a few feet away, I sense the blood in his body. A dark unease flows through me. There's something very wrong with my last resort, and I know I shouldn't go through with whatever I'm about to do, and I hope it won't come down to this. I don't want to fight him—but I know I will if I must. _I've already decided_, I tell him._ And it's my choice, not yours. So let me leave peacefully or I'll force you to let me go. _

_No! _His eyes narrow. _I made a vow to protect you, and I won't let you give your life for this! _His chin tilts down and long strands of dark hair fall into his face. He makes a lunge to grab my arm, presumably to force me to stay. My body assumes a stance I don't remember learning but that's somehow familiar to my muscles. I flex my hands and he freezes. I lower my arms and force him down to his knees, enforcing my will over his own. I don't know how I'm doing this, but I know that he's shaking and his eyes are bright with fear. I have control of everything: his muscles, his veins, his blood.

_I'm sorry_, I say, and I knock him unconscious on the dark forest floor before taking off running through the leaves and shadows and the moonlit night.

This is when I wake up shaking in the shadows of my room in Ba Sing Se. Toph, Sokka, and Aang are sleeping on mats around me. Our other friends have dispersed to the other rooms, and we've all been here together the past three days ever since our journey to the lake. For now, I push up to my feet and quietly sneak through the living room and down the front steps. I breathe in the cold night air and lean against the side of the house. These visions are getting strange, even ridiculous. Whoever came up with the crazy notion of being able to control someone else's body with waterbending? Not even spirits should be so silly that they would propose such things.

Instead, I focus on the more important and realistic aspects of tonight's dream and the dreams of two nights past. Tonight, my friend said _the war is over _and something about a vow to protect me and . . . was there a bit about _marrying _Zuko? Okay, so maybe this last part was just as ridiculous as the idea of controlling someone's body. Nevertheless, despite Iroh's hesitations, maybe this Fire Nation man really is destined to help me.

Oh, Iroh . . .

"Hey. Can't sleep either?"

I glance over at Toph sitting against the wall, her feet flat on the smooth street stones. "Hey," I say, sitting down beside her. "What are you doing out here."

"Zuko's gone."

That she used his real name and not _Sparky _lets me know it's serious and she's upset. I'm not surprised at his absence, though. This morning I woke up to find him already gone, too. That's assuming he slept at all. Something happened to all of us while we were gathered around Iroh on Appa's saddle, but especially to Zuko and especially to me. Because I was weak from blood loss, I remember little from the immediate aftermath of my first true failure at healing.

All I've realized is this, though I keep trying to push away the thought: Iroh was the first person who died because I wasn't good enough.

I think I began to understand this when Iroh grew very still beneath my hands. Zuko leaned forward and pressed his ear to Iroh's chest. He didn't move for a long few moments, and then he took Iroh's hand and pressed his uncle's palm hard against _his_ chest, as if he wanted for Iroh to somehow take some of _his _own life. Toph was first to hug Zuko from behind. Jin was shaking and crying and a small noise escaped her lips, a soft moan. She looked at Jet, who looked at her, because even though it wasn't their fault they both knew who Zuko would blame for this. I knew, too.

It would be me. It would be me and Jin and Jet. Are they the ones to blame for letting themselves be kidnapped by the Dai Li and brainwashed and for fighting us down in the headquarters, and am I to blame for holding Iroh's life in my healing hands and letting it go? Maybe I _am _to blame. I let his life slip like water through the fingers of a nonbender. Things have died in my hands before, like fish for dinner, but the aftermath of losing a human life is entirely different. How do I begin forgiving myself for something like that?

I started to shiver and had to sit down at the edge of the saddle, staring blankly into the sky. My brother and Aang stayed with me, holding me on either side. They were saying something to me. Toph was saying something to Zuko, but I couldn't hear any of it over the thrumming of my heart and my own chattering teeth. Jet and Jin and the Freedom Fighters huddled to one side, watching this, not knowing what to say. Very distantly, I realized Jet had wrapped an arm around Jin and she was holding on to his shirt. I understood why they were holding onto each other. It was for the same reason I grabbed one of Sokka's hands and one of Aang's and held on tight, holding on because otherwise everything else I had would slip through my fingers along with Iroh.

And then a sound broke through the cold, clear afternoon air. It was a begging cry, so piercing it nearly willed my heart to stop. It was Zuko, still leaning over his uncle with Toph's arms holding on tight around his waist, the sound coming from a place inside his chest.

_He's not dead_, Zuko cried.

Toph hugged his waist even more tightly. _Zuko—_

_No, he's just . . . he's . . . he'll be okay. _

_Zuko, he's—_

_He's NOT dead! Uncle? UNCLE?_

Zuko just couldn't believe it, refused to believe it. He struggled against Toph as she tried to hold him back. Whatever we did now to comfort him, it would all be hollow. Just meaningless noise and pointless physical actions that his mind wouldn't even process. He whispered _uncle, uncle _over and over as if somehow this might bring Iroh back. But I think some small piece of him, even then, understood that Iroh was always ready to give his life for his young nephew. Iroh followed him everywhere for three long years and would have come to Zuko's cry despite any pain or risk. If Iroh could simply lie there, unresponsive, while his nephew dropped his head onto his uncle's chest and lay there sobbing and pleading with the spirits, then there could only be one undeniable cause.

Zuko didn't move from his uncle's side when Appa landed near our temporary home in the upper ring. He didn't move as Aang and Sokka forcefully dragged me inside to help me drink calming tea. He didn't move while I sat there at the low table and spilled tea everywhere because my hands were shaking as I remembered Zuko and Iroh's reunion right here in this very home—and how I knew, even then, that Zuko's home was in his uncle's arms. Despite being banished from his nation three years ago, it was only _now _that he, for the first time, had no home to call his own.

As I sipped tea and spilled three gulps for every one that reached my mouth, my friends got the story of what happened from Jin and Jet. I filled in a few occasional gaps when I could focus enough to speak, even then only explaining how Long Feng must have brainwashed them to fight against their friends. Since I was mentally checked out, it took Sokka to remind us there was only one way to make Iroh's death worthwhile: accomplish what we came here to do. We had to get to the Earth King, break Long Feng's conspiracy about the war wide open, and set our invasion plan into action. If the Earth King agreed to help, we could probably convince Zuko to reveal helpful trade secrets of the Fire Nation we could use to bring our enemies down.

If our firebending friend was still even on our side.

Longshot and Smellerbee stayed behind to look after Zuko and I while the rest of our friends—Aang, Sokka and Toph, as witnesses to Appa's entrapment, and Jin and Jet, as witnesses to Iroh's murder—took the sky bison to break into the Earth King's palace and confront him with the truth. Minutes after Appa took off, Zuko told Smellerbee he was leaving with Iroh for some time.

_Don't follow us_, he warned, gently holding his uncle's body as if Iroh were only asleep.

I heard him from the kitchen and ran out to the living room. _Zuko, wait. Someone needs to go with you. Please, I'll go—_

His eyes, fire and ice at once, stopped me. _You killed my uncle_, he said simply. And to him, this was the absolute truth.

Smellerbee shook her head. _No, the Dai Li did that. Katara did her best—_

_Leave. Us. Alone. _Each word was its own broken fragment as he turned and went down the front steps. And what could I say that would call him back?

In his eyes, I was the girl who killed his uncle.

I killed Iroh.

Me.

That night I dreamed of the man singing the _four seasons _song until my friends returned some time past midnight and woke me even with their soft steps. They explained how they proved Long Feng's guilt with some teeth marks of Appa's or something—I was too tired and too worried about Zuko, who still hadn't come home, to get the full story. Zuko wasn't back the next morning, either. That next day, I waited back home while my brother and friends escorted the Earth King to see the Lake Laogai headquarters—or, what remained of them. Apparently the Dai Li had destroyed evidence of their base of operations underwater, though thankfully not of the drill we took down.

_That proved Long Feng's guilt, _Aang explained when they returned on the second evening after our journey to Lake Laogai. We gathered in the living room to discuss the day.

My brother fist-pumped the air. _Yeah, no way Long Gone could cover up a huge drill with the Fire Nation insignia! He'll be tried for treason against the Earth Kingdom and for what he did to Iroh. _

_If not for our grass-chewing pacifist friend_—Toph jabs a thumb at Aang—_I would've cut a stone pillar through him myself. Maybe I'll still get the chance. We're going back to visit his great earthiness tomorrow to figure out an invasion plan_. She sighs, more somber now. _Has Zuko come back yet? We're going to need him for this._

_What else do you want? What haven't I given you yet? _We turned and saw Zuko standing in the doorway. He was alone. No body. No trace of anything but a very distant smell of ash, soot, and fire as he walked past us to his room, but maybe I was just imagining it. I've been imagining a lot of things lately, and he moved past too quickly for me to even see his face except for the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

We left him alone that night and returned to the Earth King the next day—well, this morning. This time I went with my friends. It was clear Zuko's mourning was, at least for now, his right alone and none of us were allowed to intervene. I knew this because I decided to talk to him today before we left and when I went to his room, he was already gone. I wanted to tell him about my second strange dream and to ask how he was doing. But then again, I was the girl who killed Iroh. How could he ever speak to me again?

In the palace this afternoon, the Earth King thanked us young heroes for opening his eyes to the war. _And all this time, what I thought was a great metropolis, was merely a city of fools. _

_That's why we came to Ba Sing Se, _Sokka explained. _We think you can help us end the war. _

_We don't have much time,_ Aang said. _There's a comet coming this summer, and its energy will give the firebenders unbelievable strength. They'll be unstoppable. _

My brother nodded. _But there is hope. Before the comet comes, we have a window of opportunity. A solar eclipse is coming. The sun will be entirely blocked out by the moon, and the firebenders will be helpless. _

They went on discussing this for a while until the Earth King pledged his support. Then we met General How, the leader of The Council of Five, who explained that a search of Long Feng's private study yielded some secret files. There was a letter for Toph from her mother here in the city. Aang received a letter from some Guru living at the Eastern Air Temple. Me and Sokka? Our gift was a single intelligence report about a small fleet of water tribe ships protecting the mouth of Chameleon Bay.

A fleet of ships led by Hakoda.

Ships led by _Dad_.

It seemed our road from here was clear. Toph would answer her mother's request to visit. Aang would accept the invitation of this strange spiritual expert, who claimed he could teach him to control the Avatar State. Someone would have to stay with the Earth King and help him plan for the invasion—that would be me. Sokka, I know, wants to help our father more than anything. Besides, my feelings about my father are complex. Until I sort them out, I'd rather be the nicest sister ever and let my big brother get his wish.

Only, there was just one small problem with splitting up like that. What would happen to Zuko if only Jin, the Freedom Fighters, and I stayed behind?

_Let's discuss this tomorrow morning_, I suggested since it was late. So we returned home, our sleeping arrangements already established: the Freedom Fighters in the living room, Jin and Tayla in one bedroom, Aang, Toph, Sokka, and I in the second, and Zuko alone in the third. Zuko alone because that's what he does, distances himself from the people who only want to help.

And it was this night that I had my third dream about my friend from the beach house, the dream that woke me up shaking and sent me outside to breathe the cold night air, the reason I saw Toph sitting out there too and sat down beside her.

I sigh. "Yeah. I guess Zuko is gone. He's been gone since Lake Laogai." What I mean to say is that, three days later, I still don't know if Zuko ever left that spot where he sobbed against his uncle's heart for the very last time.

"So why can't you sleep?" Toph asks.

"Weird dream."

"Probably better than my nightmare. I'm going to really miss you guys if we all have to break up," she admits.

For the first time in these past long days, I find myself actually smiling. "Aww, _you'll_ miss us? Tough Toph?" But because she looks so small and shivering in the cold, I wrap my arms around her lovingly. "Hey, I'm going to miss everyone too. It's not forever, just for a few days or a week or something. And with Zuko's help, we'll an invasion plan set by the time you get back."

"I've been thinking about that. Instead of all cornering him tomorrow, I feel like Sparky might listen better if I talked to him instead. Just us alone."

"So we're back to _Sparky_?"

She shrugs. "I'll test the waters. We'll see how he reacts to that tomorrow."

I nod. "Okay, and good plan. He seems to trust you more than anyone else right now." I know this despite how much my heart hurts to hear this truth spoken aloud.

We lapse into silence. I take the quiet moment to glance again at the moon. I wonder if maybe I should tell her now, and later all of my friends, about this dream man who keeps coming back to me—especially since my vision self said this: _You've gotten better since you helped us take down the Fire Lord. _So he _will _help us. I knew it. I wish Iroh were still here so I could tell him this friend from the beach house is a man to be trusted. _If I only knew how to find him_, I think sadly to the moon, hoping some spirit might hear and guide me.

"Hey, I'm getting kinda beat," Toph says suddenly, getting up. "I think I'll go try this sleep thing again."

I stand up to follow her. "Yeah, that sounds—"

But I'm cut off by the faintest humming of wind, a sound so clear that it moves across my senses with enough force to make me freeze. Toph stares at me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, uh . . . totally fine. No worries here!" We begin to walk inside, but I pause just outside the doorway. "Go on. I'll be right there." Toph shrugs and slips quietly inside, leaving me alone. I turn back and glance at the wide circle of the moon floating way up in the night sea. Did I really just hear a soft whisper across the dark, or am I imagining the strangest of things? With these visions, I'm no longer sure of anything. The words I thought I heard a moment ago, in a voice still so familiar I can hear it even now, were originally meant in reference to Zuko: _Love grows from a single soul inhabiting two bodies. _For sure, I suppose it would for sure. But why I would suddenly hear these words now, coming at me from the dark, is beyond me. I guess it's just my imagination.

It has to be.

* * *

The next morning, I'm woken by Toph's foot nudging me gently in the side. "Hmm, wha?" I grumble, rolling over to face her.

"I'm going to talk to Sparky about this invasion thing. We'll be outside."

I sit up as she walks off. If I'm careful, maybe I can eavesdrop. I wait a few minutes before sneaking into the main room and then down the front steps. In the cool morning air, I listen for snatches of conversation and hear them coming from around the corner of the house. They're sitting beneath a tree out in the back, a tree with one low branch broken off. I realize it's the same tree whose branch I took to practice different strike angles that one day seemingly so long ago. They're sitting between two gnarled roots and leaning back against the trunk, in the exact same position I was when a whisper from a very great distance brought me the two names meant for my twin swords. And their backs are to me, meaning I can safely watch and listen from here if Toph doesn't give me away with her seismic sense.

"I wish he'd told me more," Zuko says, his voice so soft I can barely hear him speak. "Instead of asking me to sing, he should have told me what to do!"

"I think it was pretty clear," Toph says gently. "He told you to not lose your way. Sounds like he was just reminding you to stick with us."

"I don't know. I don't _know_ what he wanted. Why didn't he just say 'help the Avatar?' He said _try not to lose your way_. Without him, how do I know what that's supposed to mean?"

"I think—"

"No, you don't understand. I joined this team because I wanted to save my uncle's life. Because your _healer_"—the word is hard, angry on his tongue—"promised to help him. And now what? If I hadn't joined you, my uncle would still be _alive_."

They're silent for a moment. Then Toph says, "I think if your uncle were here, he'd tell you wars do that. They hurt people we love. That's why we need your help to end this one. If we invade the Fire Nation and win, no more innocent people have to get hurt."

Zuko stands. He stands right up. "Is that what this is about? You think I'm going to help you fight my people?"

Toph stands up, too. "Hey, I'm on _your _side. I can tell you that there's definitely going to be an invasion plan. If you help the Earth King figure it out, we can minimize damage to the Fire Nation. We only have to beat the Fire Lord. Just him. You probably know better than anyone else how to do that."

"To get to my father, you'll have to put Fire Nation citizens in danger, too. I . . . no, I'm not fighting my own nation!"

"What would your uncle say?" she asks. Among all of us, she's probably the only one who could confront Zuko with those words without getting her face burned off.

He's shaking. "My uncle and I discussed this," he says slowly. "We talked about this a lot these past few weeks, ever since we found . . . since we found him again in the city." His hands are shaking, his voice very small. "He wanted me to help you plan the invasion, but . . . no, he must have been wrong. Maybe he was wrong about us joining the Avatar, too. He said we'd be safe, but he's _dead _because we helped you!" He turns away, his shoulders trembling. "Just leave me alone. Do whatever you want with the Earth King, but I'm not getting involved. Win the war or don't, I don't care. Don't you get that? _I don't care anymore_." And he stalks off, leaving Toph alone by the tree.

When he's gone, she turns her face to where I'm hiding behind the corner of the house. "Looks like we're on our own," she tells me.

Yeah. I guess we really are.

* * *

Later in the day, I see my brother, Aang, and Toph off on their journeys. We hug before my friends set off, and for a minute we're all wrapped up in one another's warmth because we love each other. For this one moment, I feel just as confident as I did right after we took down the drill. We were a team now would help each other through any loss or challenge. We were Team Avatar, the one unbeatable force whose members would stand by one another and never betray each other for anything. After the drill, I had no doubt it would always remain this way. For this one moment, I feel that certainty return.

But then my brother and friends go, leaving me behind with Jin, Zuko, and the Freedom Fighters, and for the first time that unyielding conviction begins to waver.

I'm invited to the military headquarters of Ba Sing Se, but doubt hovers at the back of my mind even as I kneel at the raised frame of the map of the known world and help plan the invasion with the Council of Five. This takes around a week, me visiting the palace during the day and then returning to my friends in evening. Jin keeps her job at the tea shop, helping the owner with her wise ways in brewing. She tells us she might open her own shop one day in Iroh's memory, who apparently confessed to her that his dream was opening his own place and calling the Jasmine Dragon. The income would help her raise Tayla, and tea is one of her favorite things. Tea is also apparently one of Jet's favorite things, too, or at least he pretends it is while he helps Jin out in the tea shop. Though they only just met, they're starting to be good friends. I suspect this because I catch them sitting out on the front steps one evening when I come home, just talking. Tayla is sitting between them, snoozing against Jet's shoulder. Jin laughs at some joke and waves when she sees me approaching.

_Hey_, I say.

_Hey_, they echo, both smiling and smiling.

Zuko alone remains entirely out of sorts. He disappears by day and returns by evening, never addressing anyone except maybe Tayla when she confronts him directly. Otherwise, he brushes us all aside. One morning I catch him training with his swords behind the house. Sort of training. He hacks into the tree with gnarled roots, the one beneath which I named my swords. He's not fighting the tree, he's killing it. He cuts out a complete strip of bark from around the entire circumference of the trunk and leaves it that way. After he's gone, I come over and touch the girdled tree. My eyes feel wet, and I know it's because a woody plant girdled like this has a broken connection between the roots and the wood tissues above the damage. When the living connection between roots and leaves is severed, even a strong tree like this will die.

I almost walk away, but then I notice some water close by in a shallow decorative pool. I wrap a band of liquid around the tree trunk where Zuko cut the bark. In the Foggy Swamp, the waterbenders are capable of plantbending. I wonder if maybe I can heal this tree. At least I can try.

As I test the limits of my bending, I imagine the pain Zuko must be feeling today and these past few days. I flashback to how I felt after my mother's death: breathing quickly, trying not to think, wanting and failing to ignore the silent space inside me. Now Zuko was faced with a similar hollow in his heart in the place previously occupied by his uncle. And then there was the guilt, the parasitic _I did it, it's my fault, it's all my fault _that probably writhed inside his brain until he felt trapped and drowning inside his own body. But how could I help him if he won't even let me near?

While I consider these things, beneath my hands, the healing water glows.

* * *

A week after my friends' departure, the Council of Five finalizes an invasion plan. I'm given a scroll and instructed to deliver it to the Earth King in order to get his seal. Once approved, we can execute the plan. In exactly two months, on The Day of Black Sun, we will invade the Fire Nation and take back the world.

But before going to the Earth King, I return to the house in the early afternoon to tell my friends this small piece of good news.

I find Smellerbee and Longshot playing some game of tiles with Tayla on the living room floor. Jet and Jin are sitting around the low table, just chatting. They glance up when I come in. "Any news?" Jet asks.

"All the plans are ready," I say, joining them at the table. "I just need a seal from the Earth King and we're set. My brother, Aang, and Toph should be getting back soon. Things might finally be looking up again."

"We got a great plan, too," Jin tells me. "Zuko's been down for the past week—obviously. But I think I know a way to cheer him up a bit. My sister's a super sweetheart, so I'm going to put him on babysitting duty for the rest of today. If anyone can make him feel better, it's Tayla. At least it'll distract him."

This, to me, doesn't sound like a good plan at all. "You know he's not thinking clearly," I warn. "What if he does something stupid like accidentally hurt her?"

Jin flaps her hand dismissively. "Nah, they'll be fine. My sister's tough. She can handle herself. Hey, Zuko!" She waves as the firebender comes stalking through the living room en route to the kitchen. He's been gone all day, again. He's been out of the house a lot these past few days. In the beginning, he seemed distant and dazed. Now, his uncertainty has channeling into anger, into rage.

He doesn't look at her. "What do you want?"

"Where have you been?" I ask, aiming for friendly conversation.

His response is icy silence as he storms into the kitchen.

"Hey, wait up." Jin follows him. "I gotta ask you a favor . . ."

This leaves Jet and I alone. "I guess I should go deliver these scrolls to the king," I say.

When I get up, he stands too. "I'll accompany you to the palace. How's about that?"

I glance between Tayla and the kitchen where Zuko and Jin are arguing. "Don't want to stick around for the fight, either?"

He's already out the door. "Coming?"

We walk for some distance in silence, though something occurs to me that I've been meaning to confront Jet about. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he says.

"Well . . . remember down in Lake Laogai? I, uh . . . sorry about how I had to break you out of the whole brainwashing thing. You know, with the kiss."

He looks away. "Uh, yeah. It's fine."

"No, well . . . see, I guess the reason I did it was out of desperation. Words weren't working, and I saw that's what worked between Zuko and Jin. Only, they actually like each other. I mean, Jin likes Zuko. So looking back, it makes sense why that would snap her out of it. But, uh . . ."

Now Jet _really _won't look at me. He stares at the apparently very interesting pattern of stones laying out our path. "It was just the shock of the whole thing," he says offhandedly, too quickly, revealing a more subtle truth. I sigh. I thought so.

Of course, there's something else, something even more important. We walk for a few more moments in silence before I gather the will to say it. "Hey, can I ask you something?" I step in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. We stand there in the wide and empty street, and now he's looking at me guardedly. "I need to hear it from _you_, not just the little pieces I've put together. When you went to the Dai Li, did you tell them about Zuko? Is that why you went to see them?"

His shamed silence is enough for me to understand. He sighs. "Listen, I didn't mean for the old man to get hurt. I didn't even meet him. Honestly, I didn't even mean for your lover boy to get hurt. I just . . . you know. Firebenders, I can get over. But this one's the Fire Lord's son. I thought the Dai Li would just lock him up. Looking back, I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad mistake. But I guess 'I'm sorry' doesn't exactly cut it."

I don't know how to feel about Jet now, especially since I know _why _he has strong anger towards firebenders because of his past. He shouldn't have done it, but what would I have done if I'd met Zuko in the city and he'd never joined the team? If all I knew about him was how hiskind had killed my mother? I probably would have gone running off to the Earth King to report Zuko, just like Jet did. I want to be angry, but somehow that anger feels hollow. To hate Jet would be to hate myself in another life.

"Thanks. I just . . . needed to know," I simply say.

We stand there awkwardly for a few heartbeats, that moment when silence speaks louder than speech. Then Jet glances back the way we came. "You're coming up on the palace soon. I'll head back and make sure Jin and your little lover boy don't get in a bad scuffle."

I nod. "See you tonight."

"See 'ya."

I watch him go, the hook swords strapped tightly to his back. This reminds me of the fact that I have yet to get a new water skin to replace the one Long Feng took from me, and I've been leaving my swords at the house to not get in trouble with the Council of Five. Walking unarmed probably isn't my best plan, but it's fine. The palace is close by. In the lazy afternoon light, I'm one of the only people wandering through the street. Not that I mind. With Long Feng's agents no longer hunting my team, I'm safe.

"Hi, excuse me! Can I get some help, please?"

I look over and see, of all people, a Kyoshi warrior waving at me from an alley. Suki's people. "Hey," I say, coming over. "What's wrong?"

She's sitting on the ground, holding her ankle. A long brown braid snakes down her back. "I was taking a shortcut and slipped. I think I hurt my leg."

"Hold on, let me see. I'm a healer." I kneel down to inspect the damage. "Well, I don't have my water skin with me, but I'll see if I can find some water and come back."

The girl's sharp eyes flick to my face. "Actually, I'm feeling much better."

Before I can move, before I can shout, she's on her feet and jabbing me through a series of acrobatic flips. She strikes my shoulder, my arms, my legs and body. I fall sideway, paralyzed, unable even to call out. This warrior, a woman I only now recognize as Ty Lee, watches me lie helpless on the stone. She glances over and waves, and two other Kyoshi warriors approach from the shadows. Looking closely, I recognize the one with long dark hair as the knife-thrower, Mai. The third, a girl whose confident smile betrays her delight, is none other than Zuko's sister.

"Well, look at this," Azula says, kneeling beside me. "It appears we've caught the Avatar's little friend. Girls"—she glances between her friends—"take care of her until I return. From what you've found out for me, Mai, it sounds like my dear brother has been assigned to babysitting duty. I'll follow along to make sure nothing _terrible _happens to the precious little child."

Zuko's anger at me for letting his uncle die. His frustration with his uncle's parting wisdom. His disappearances this past week. His promise, during the drill mission, to Mai: _Are you going to Ba Sing Se? I'll find a way to meet you there._ His words, beneath the tree, to Toph: _Maybe he was wrong about us joining the Avatar, too. _His responses, all week, to me: Fire in his anger, ice in his silence. Suddenly these things come together with transparent clarity and I understand, or think I do.

If only this were not the moment when Ty Lee jabs me hard in some secret pressure point and I black out.

_A/N: Well, my dears, it has come to this. We stand now right before my version of "The Crossroads of Destiny" in which Zuko will make his famous decision (and the chapter in which Zuko and Katara will discuss Iroh's passing together). So, place your bets. When Zuko is forced to choose a side, will he stand with his remaining family or with his friends? Next chapter, the game is up—and afterwards, nothing will ever be the same._


	31. From What I've Tasted of Desire: 10

_A/N: **[Very important—please read!]** Zuko is going to allude to an event that transpired between him, Azula, and Tayla between the last time Katara saw him and when she sees him next in this chapter. However, you won't find out what that event is until later down the line. So don't worry, you will have your answers—just not yet. For now, steel yourselves. We stand before the ultimate crossroads, and Zuko's choice will determine many destinies. Of course, the spirits already have their own designs. Whether our exact fates are predetermined or not, there exist such things as red strings of fate. According to this myth, spirits link an invisible red string between those that are destined to meet each other in a certain situation or help each other in a certain way. The red string is a bond of love, be it romantic, friendly, platonic, or familial. Regardless of time, place, or circumstances, the magical cord may stretch or tangle but never break between these two guardians of one another's fate. And though she doesn't know it yet, the time for Katara's thread to tug her towards ultimate destiny has begun._

_Edit: Before anyone gets confused, the first "dream" about snowballs and sledding is just a silly dream because Katara got knocked out - no actual plot relevance (people can just have normal dreams, right?). The second one with the headpiece is actually significant. Also, special thanks to JackieStarSister as always for pointing out typos!_

I dream I'm playing in the snow with my brother one evening in my village home. I throw a snowball and it misses his face, but it circles back like a boomerang and hits him smack in the back of his head. We're both giggling. Aang slides past me on a penguin. He wants to know if I want to go penguin sledding. I do, but Toph has got him beat out. She's sledding down a hill on a badgermole, and I accept her invitation instead. We slide down, laughing, with snowflakes spiraling all around us until we crash into a snowbank and I go toppling over into a flurry of fresh snowfall. Which is all ridiculous, anyway, because it's not even cold and I'm only wearing my thin outfit without even a hooded jacket . . .

But then the dream changes.

I'm kneeling alone in a black place where the only light comes from the glowing metal thing I'm holding in my hands. I examine it. It's a golden headpiece, one shaped like the Fire Nation insignia but with two additional prongs. I've never seen something so beautiful, not even in the topknot of my friend from the beach house. His headpiece was a simple little flame, not this five-pronged artifact as hot as the flame it's meant to represent.

_Katara._

I glance up at the summons and see a man standing before me. His uniform, glowing with pale illuminating light, is one I've never seen. It's indigo with white details, a patterned mantle around the shoulders, and vestments with a single unifying feature: an image of a white lotus flower. I whisper his name—_Iroh_—but my breath comes out as fog because it's very cold in this dark world. I hold the headpiece against my chest because I'm shivering, though I wonder why a piece of metal should be so warm and bright. Not that I'm complaining. At least it's one comfort in this strange place.

Iroh kneels before me and rests his hands on my shoulders. He smiles and, his breath as frosty as mine, whispers _do you know how to befriend wild turtle ducks? _

I open my eyes. Pale green light falls over my face, my skin, over my shaking body covered in icy sweat. I'm lying on the floor, so I sit up slowly. Glowing green crystals prickle from the floor, walls, and ceiling of a dim cavern. I do a quick sweep of the area for a way out, but I can guess how I got here. After knocking me out, Azula's friends dragged me down to this makeshift prison. I don't have to search to know there's no way out. But that's the thing about hope, which I've always held faith in. I hold faith in believing that imagination and desire can be stronger than knowledge. It's this conviction that sends me wandering through the crystal catacombs looking for an escape even though Azula probably has this place tightly sealed. Because no matter how dark the shadows of evil might seem, hope is always possible. For the sake of warning Tayla, if it's not already too late, I have to try. I _have _to. For me, hope is the last thing to die. Only when it's gone will I know that it's truly the end of everything.

I'm still pacing around the cave, looking for any traces of natural light, or reaching for water, or even feeling for a breeze, when there's a rumbling noise overhead. I look towards a steep tunnel slanting up at an angle. A Dai Li agent has moved aside the stone blocking the previously sealed entrance. "You've got company," he calls. He pushes someone forward, who tumbles to the bottom of the cave a few feet away from where I'm standing. The person falls flat on his face and stomach and doesn't move from the spot, but I recognize him instantly.

"Zuko!" I shout. I get down on my knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders and trying to roll him over. His swords are sheathed on his back, though I can't imagine why he wasn't stripped of his weapons. He doesn't fight my touch as I turn him over. When Zuko's facing up, I see that his eyes are wide and blank. For a second I think he's gone into shock, and I realize his wide and blank eyes are also very red and wet.

"I'm my father," he tells the ceiling. His voice is dazed and distant as if he only just now happened upon some tremendous revelation.

"What are you—"

Zuko shoves me away. He rolls back over but now onto his hands and knees. "I'm just like my father," he says very quietly. Small dark water droplets suddenly appear on the cave floor in a direct line down from his eyes. He's crying.

"What happened? Please, tell me," I beg, still on the floor where he pushed me aside. His mouth opens and I think he tries to say something, but no sound comes out aside from a choked sob. "Is it Tayla? What did Azula do? Please, I can help you—"

"No, you can't." His voice is suddenly loud, ignited by the same white-hot anger burning in his heart. "Youkilled my uncle. You have _no _idea what it means to help people!"

I try, very hard, to understand that he's only saying these things because he hates what he imagines are empty words. "Whatever you did, it can't be that bad. You're not the Fire Lord. Your father ordered people's death, and you've never—"

He pushes up to his feet and turns away. He stares at the cave wall because he still won't look at me. "You don't know _what _I am," he says, his voice shaking. "You don't know what I've done." He's still staring at the cave wall, but he's probably not even seeing it.

"Zuko, stop! Just stop talking like that!"

This, somehow, is too much. He turns around and his hands are fists. He's shaking with rage, disgust, fear—does it matter? This wild, unbridled, feral state turns him into the person I knew a very long time ago. He's the young firebender who knelt beside his uncle and poured tea from a small cup across an unconscious Iroh's lips. The boy about whom Aang said _I don't think he's used to kindness_ and to whom I brought dinner.

This Zuko is the one who held the oldest and most absolute kind of hate for me. The kind that sends shivers through the whole earth. I feel the ground shudder beneath my feet. I feel it shudder and tip sideways, or maybe it's just me getting dizzy from the realization that despite everything we've been through we've just come back full circle. We're back to the moment when he shouted _leave _because he hated me and the Avatar and every good thing in the world. I know this because this shaking, angry Zuko opens his mouth and gives me one command.

"_Leave,_" he snarls, his voice raw and tortured.

For some foolish reason, he thinks I will. He thinks I'm the same Katara who listened to him on that first night because she was afraid of his anger and fire. He thinks I won't risk getting burned by the flames curling around his clenched fists. He thinks I'll just step back and turn away because I won't be able to stand the kind of hates reserved for the worst of enemies.

But . . . there's one thing he's not counting on. I will never, ever, give up on people who need me. And right now this boy, this boy who is more than just _some _boy but _the _boy, the one I love, is the one who needs me most of all. No fire, no pain, no risk will make me _leave _ever again.

"I'm not going anywhere," I say. "You're more than my friend, don't you _get _that? You're just suffering because of your uncle, whose death _wasn't _your fault or mine. The Dai Li did that!" I pause. "Azula did something to Tayla, didn't she? Listen, I'm going to help you through this—"

"NO!" he roars. He burns a curtain of fire between us, forcing me to leap back. There's no water anywhere and he's the only one with swords, leaving me defenseless. But I don't care. Nothing—_nothing_—will make me back down now or ever.

"Zuko, I'm _not _going to leave. Remember what your uncle said? You're going to restore peace to the world and honor to the Fire Nation—"

"No, _no_—I DON'T CARE!" he yells. He punches a blast of fire at me, which I barely duck. "I'm done, I've had _enough_, I just want it to _stop_, please"—he drops to his knees—"I want it to end, I want _everything _to just _stop_"—he's crying against the ground, his face pressed into the dirt—"because _I don't care_."

Of course he does. He cares so much that his uncle's death and whatever's happened to Tayla is going to tear him apart. He's already bleeding inside with the unbearable torment of it. Zuko is back on his feet now, screaming at the walls, the sounds tearing from his throat so loud and sharp they're like splinters of glass cutting against my heart. He looks at me and I know that he wants to hurt me, to make me feel some small fragment of the suffering tearing through his body. I want to say _Zuko, please, I understand how you feel _but I don't. As far as he's concerned I can never understand. And even if I could, what words could I say that would change anything? Words are no longer enough between us. Words can't express what I need them to say. Iroh's words returned to me: _Kiss not to set fire to a moment but to speak when words fail to say that which you most want to express, and then you will be kissing not lips but a man's very heart. _His advice wasn't just about kissing because it's not the kiss but the love behind physical expression of affection that can change everything. The love behind a person's touch is such a small thing, but one with the power to turn a life around.

I run at Zuko, duck another swipe with fire, and grab his wrists. I grab his wrists despite the knowledge that he's so much stronger than I am and could easily break loose. I pull him closer despite the understanding that any moment now he will probably burn me. I let his wrists go and grab his face despite the fear that he is going to try to kill me in the blindness of his rage.

I do these things because even if he's going to pretend not to care, I care so much that I will risk everything to ease his pain.

I do it because I love him, and he has to know.

"You want to hurt me? Fine, do anything," I say, forcing him to look at me. "You can yell at me, burn me, do whatever you want—but you're going to listen to me first."

His shoulders are trembling. His hands are still fists. But after these few moments he hasn't pulled away yet, and I think he's going to give me a chance to speak.

"Zuko," I go on, still holding his jaw on either side so he doesn't avert his eyes. "You're right, some things we _don't _care about. Sorry, but I don't care about your threats. I'm not going to leave because there's something more important keeping me here that I do care about. It's _you_. Do you understand? Nod, Zuko"—he refuses to humor this request, but I think he's following my logic—"and I would never, _ever_, have hurt your uncle. I would have done anything to save him if I could, but only spirit water would have worked. When you were dying in the Serpent's Pass, what did you want me to do? Let you die? I didn't know I'd need the water. Please, you have to see. I would never have hurt your uncle, and you'd never hurt Tayla. Whatever happened with her, it couldn't have been because of you."

He's no longer struggling. His angry resolve seems to be flaking off. He sniffs. "Katara, you don't understand—"

"No, _you _don't understand." And I know, right now, is the moment of confession. Zuko, I—"

This is when we hear the shudder of rock at the far end of the tunnel. We both look over, momentarily distracted. Standing there, in the midst of dust and rubble, is the Avatar. Coming back from his journey to the Guru, to rescue us, is Aang.

"Katara!" he yells. He runs up and embraces me in a warm hug, which is enough time for Zuko to slip out of my grasp and step away. "Katara," Aang goes on, nearly breathless. "I'm sorry it so long to find you. We had to catch someone who could tell us where they were keeping you—"

I don't have time for the story. "Aang, later," I say. I try to free myself his hug, but he won't let go.

"You're right," he agrees. "Let's get out of here first."

He finally lets me go, and my first reaction is to look at Zuko. He's standing in exactly the same place as before, but he's no longer looking at me or Aang. His eyes have turned in the direction of three people who slid down the tunnel: Azula and two Dai Li agents. Aang assumes a defensive position, but I hold out my arm stop him from attacking. I don't want to be the one to initiate a fight. Not yet.

"Ah, look," she says. "We have _two _guests instead of the one I expected, and such very important guests." She dismisses one of the two Dai Li agents with a wave of the hand and a quiet whispered instruction I don't hear. "Even better. So," she adds as one of the agents disappears back up the tunnel. "Have you had time to think?"

"Let's just run," Aang tells me, but I don't move. I promised Zuko I'd never leave him again.

"Think?" I echo. "Think about what?"

"Not _you,_ peasant," she snaps. "My dear brother, Prince Zuko. Have you had time to consider what we discussed?"

No, _no_. "Zuko, what's she talking about?" I ask.

He won't turn around to face me, but he won't look at her either. He stares down at the ground instead. "I told you to leave," he says, his voice very flat.

"Zuko—" I begin.

"Silence," Azula orders. "This is none of your business."

"Aang, run," I whisper to my friend. Even though I won't leave Zuko, Aang's the Avatar. He has to go. For my part, I look back at Azula. "You know what, I think it is. He's on our side, so back off!"

"_Your _side? Please, you can't be so naïve." The fire princess steps closer to Zuko so he's standing directly between us. "He's a prince of the Fire Nation. With his kind of power and destiny, he can never be one of you. Zuko, don't you see"—he finally looks at her—"you were born for a greater life than running around with their kind. In fact, you can only hurt them. Do you want to hurt anyone else like that precious little child? Tayla, did you call her? How adorable. Yet you're a danger to people like that. Think of what you did to her. Think of what you_ did_."

"Zuko, it doesn't matter what happened! We can fix it," I tell him. It occurs to me that Aang hasn't run anywhere. My friend, my dear best friend who loves me, isn't going to escape until I do.

Azula nods, and at this point the dismissed Dai Li agent returns. He hands her a small wooden box, which she pockets without explanation. "Of course he can fix it, but not with you," she says. "The only way to redeem yourself, dear brother, is to follow your divine destiny to rule. If you stand with me, you will protect the people you love because you won't be a danger to them in the Fire Nation. If you help me make this a glorious day in Fire Nation history, you will not only be improving their lives them but restoring your honor. You will even have your father's love. You will have everything you want."

"Zuko, _please_," I beg. "If you fight with the Fire Nation, you'll just help spread more war and even more people will be killed. Please, remember everything we've been through."

His sister simply smirks as if my pleas are only meaningless wastes of breath. Zuko looks at me standing there with the Avatar. He looks at his sister with her two Dai Li agents. He looks down at the ground, and suddenly his fists fill with fire.

"You are free to choose," Azula says.

"That's right," I agree. "It's _your _choice."

As we stand there fighting for Zuko, something else occurs to me very dimly. Those two Dai Li agents could have trapped me and the Avatar in crystals already, but they haven't touched us. Of course, it's probably because Aang's an earthbender who would just free us immediately. So how do they plan to stop us from leaving, exactly? Even though there's no water in this crystal chamber, nothing they do could stop us because Aang can fight earth and fire.

"You're both right. It is my choice," Zuko says at last. He extinguishes the flames in his hands, and for one brief moment my hope dims. What if he goes with his sister? What if he won't fight for me and Aang?

But then the flames rekindle brighter than before, and Zuko pulls a move I've never seen. He crouches on the ground and performs a spinning sweep kick, generating a ring of fire expanding outward. Azula throws up a shield of blue fire to protect herself and the Dai Li agents. This distraction is enough for Zuko to grab my wrist and Aang's and drag us through the earthbent entrance. We run through an even larger section of the catacombs with waterfalls and channels.

"You stuck with us," I say, tears coming into my eyes as I break into a grin.

Before he can answer, Aang whips around and throws up a wall of stone to protect us from a stream of blue fire. We're knocked back by the impact force of flames on rock. From a distance, I can see Azula with her fingers smoking from the strike. She's alone—the two Dai Li agents are gone, hopefully not for reinforcements. Either way, Azula's not going to let us get away easy. That's just fine with me. I run around the smoldering wall and bend water in a nearby channel. I send the water skyward and bring it crashing down on Azula, but she deflects the attack with a blast of fire. Maintaining my momentum, I spin the water into a wave and send it towards her. A sudden influx of steam lets me know she's deflected my attack again. I regroup with Aang and Zuko. We glance around, preparing for a sneak attack.

Azula leaps out of the steam and sends a ball of fire our way. This time Zuko intercepts, kicking the flames aside as his sister lands a few feet away. He returns a stream of fire. Azula does a backflip to avoid the blast. She sends him a jet of fire with an underhand toss. Zuko sweeps it aside with his arm. They charge each other, spinning around in a flaming dance of blue and red. I would watch them longer, but it looks like Aang and I have our own company.

"Dai Li!" I shout, pointing at an agent who just landed a few feet away. But I suddenly realize it's not just one but many who have come to join us. The agent Azula dismissed early on must have gone for help as well as that wooden box. They're leaping down from the cliffs, forming a long row behind Azula. There's a lot of them, but I've got an idea. I bend water the channel and form a ring around myself in the octopus stance. Each of the eight tentacles of this maneuver can fight at least one agent. I sweep one right off his feet. Another I smack across the head. This won't take too long, I tell myself. I lie to myself, really. Some small flickering bit of me understands there are too many to take on. Far too many.

"Aang, help!" I yell.

I suddenly see one Dai Li agent knocked out by a blast of red fire. Zuko has come to help me fight while Aang, presumably, takes on Azula. But I glance over at my airbending friend some distance away and realize he's stopped fighting entirely. He stands there as if coming to some sudden realization. He seems sad, but he drops his head and earthbends several crystals out of the ground to form a tent over himself. After a few moments, the crystals begin to faintly glow.

I immediately look for Azula. She's a very great distance away from both me and Zuko, but she's not far from the crystals beneath which Aang now hides. I notice that she has assumed the first position of a stance I'm familiar with because I've seen it in action. She's preparing for a strike that begins with a circular motion of the arms—lightning generation? Zuko, a few feet away from me and half a catacomb away from Azula, also sees his sister moving into this position. He looks between her and the glowing crystals. His eyes grow wide as if in sudden realization. He looks at me, and suddenly he draws his swords.

"Avatar, _stop!_" he screams.

Before I can wonder what's about to happen, Zuko moves behind me and I flashback to our very first sword lesson. I flashback to even earlier, back to the very first time he used his swords against me on the riverbank in a lesson of humility. There is a clash of metal on metal across my chest. The swords cross at my neck. The metal that touches under my chin is ice. With the smallest twitch of his hand, he could slit my throat open. Now it's crystals instead of stars that burn into my eyes as I tilt my chin up, but it's useless. He trained me in so many moves, but escaping from this one was not among his lessons. I even release the tentacles of water in surprise.

His body. My body. The proximity traps air inside my lungs and keeps it there, just as before, but this time it's because I don't understand what's going on. "Zuko, what are you doing?" I gasp.

"You're a very powerful Avatar, but for all your power there's a limit to your speed," he yells at the glowing crystals. "If you don't surrender to the Fire Nation, or if you make one more move to fight, I'll kill Katara!"

_What? _"Zuko, are you crazy?!"

But he says nothing to reassure me, and I distantly wonder if this was some plan of Azula's all along. She's certainly made no further attempt to continue with her lightning generation, though she hasn't stepped out of the starting position either. She is simply watching her brother with interest. "Zuko," she calls. "Have you changed your mind after all?"

"If you enter the Avatar State, I will _kill _your friend!" Zuko yells. Suddenly, I understand what the glowing crystals mean. Zuko must have recognized the glow from the time when Aang entered into this state in order to fight the sandbenders who kidnapped Appa.

"But this is a good thing for us," I whisper. "If Aang's in the Avatar State, he'll take down all the Dai Li agents easy and we'll escape."

"Avatar!" Zuko shouts more urgently, ignoring me. "Do you dare call this a bluff?"

After a moment, the glow subsides. The crystals crumble and Aang steps out, his arrow its ordinary blue and his eyes their usual gray. "What do you want?" he asks, nothing more than a very small and frightened child.

The swords press more tightly against my throat, and it occurs to me for the first time that Zuko might actually be serious. "Exactly what I told you," he says. "Surrender to the Fire Nation or I'll kill your friend." He holds the blades even closer to my throat so they're nearly cutting into my skin. "She killed my uncle. It would only be revenge."

"Zuko, _no_," I plead. There's no way to use my bending to get out of this, not with the swords this close. I listen carefully to see if maybe he really is bluffing. His voice betrays nothing. What if, after our conversation, he still believes this is the absolute truth? And if he really has decided I killed his uncle, then how could he be on our side?

And this is when I know: he's not going to help me or Aang. He was momentarily confused, but now he's come to a true decision. He's going to go with his sister. He's chosen the Fire Nation and his people. Everything we went through, the desert and the Serpent's Pass and Ba Sing Se—all of these things mean nothing. And so do I.

Understanding that fact does something to my body. I stand there trapped by Zuko's swords and all the fight drains out of me. It drains because I see the airbender's eyes fill up with water, but he bows his head even though I'm screaming _Aang, just run, Aang, please, leave me_. He drops to his knees and I see him crying from the grief of a thousand lifetimes and from heartbreak that is this time truly beyond endurance. The Dai Li agents bind Aang's arms with crystal, and suddenly I don't know what else is left in the world. For the first time in my life, my hands are empty of hope.

Azula kneels beside Aang as Zuko continues to restrain me. "Brilliant idea, my brother, to have the Avatar come willingly," she says. From inside a pocket, she pulls out the wooden box. From within it, she takes a syringe filled with clear liquid.

"No!" I scream. Forgetting my imprisonment, I lunge forward violently enough that the swords cut sharply, though shallowly, into my neck. "No, don't kill him!" I shriek, choking on my own tears.

"Foolish girl," Azula says. "Why should I kill the Avatar unless opportunity presented itself to destroy him permanently? We would only have to go searching for the reincarnation in a few years. This will suffice." She plunges the needle into his upper arm and the liquid drains. Aang cries out, his hot tears streaming harder now. "_This _Avatar will be kept locked in a Fire Nation prison for the rest of his days. Without him to stop us, the world will soon belong to the greatest of all nations."

Aang's eyelids droop and he slumps forward, unconscious. Only now do the Dai Li agents trap me in crystal as Zuko steps back and sheathes his weapons. He crosses the catacombs to stand beside his sister. Her grin is vicious, triumphant. She says something privately to Zuko that I can't hear from this far away, though I bet it's praise for a job well done. As she speaks, I realize this isn't the first time I've lost hope but the second. The first was long ago when a man from the Fire Nation, one lone man seemingly like all the others, took my mother away from me. Even after I found a new hope, that day taught me there are unforgivable things in life. There are moments you look back on and know, and know for sure, this is the end of everything. Moments like the one right now.

"Take them back up to the palace," Azula orders the agents. "And you, Zuko, have done the right thing. When you return home, our father will welcome you as a war hero. With the Avatar captured, you have restored your honor."

As Aang and I are led away, one small spark of fight returns to me. There is one worse pain than the physical, a deeper hurt than the emotional. Cut my body and my skin can heal. Cut my hope and I will find a fresh light. But cut my heart and it bleeds, will bleed forever. Pain beyond pain is not physical, not emotional, but the betrayal of a friend. Right now, while there is time, I have to do something to help Zuko see that. I have to leave him with something to shame him into understanding what he's done and what he meant to me.

"I _loved_ you," I scream. At this, Zuko looks right at me. "I loved you and I thought you'd changed, but I was _wrong_. And your uncle was wrong, too! You're not going to restore peace and honor to anyone. You've killed the world! You've _killed _it. _You_."

Azula chuckles. "She's feisty. Perhaps our father will enjoy her company—when he breaks her down piece by pathetic piece."

The Dai Li agents force my head forward. I look down at the ground, and what stays with me is the agony scrawled all over Zuko's face at my accusation. His eyes have that ocean of hurt look like the one he gave me at the creek when I froze the water, but he has no right to be hurt this time. That's _my _right, mine and Aang's and of all the people in the world. Not that traitor's, who is now beyond forgiveness.

More tears are coming now, tears that burn hotter for knowing there are evil forces and foes in the world that lure men to evil but none as great as a man's own mind. Zuko's conviction in my faults and in his own has brought about the world's downfall. At least he got what he wanted after all this time: to capture the Avatar. And I guess Aang and I will get what we wanted, too: to face the Fire Lord. If only we could do this in battle and not in chains, but that's the danger of wishing. You can be certain the spirits will hear you, but how they answer your wish is the greatest uncertainty of all. I only wish that, when the Fire Lord orders my death since I'm a useless pawn in this game, it will come swiftly and not through rape and torture. I hope, and I pray, for this one remaining mercy.

_A/N: See what all your support through reviews, PMs, and Tumblr posts has achieved? It's boosted my morale enough to generate three chapter updates within a single week! This chapter has gone through two sets of amazing beta readers, Like A Dove and concept human, and I thank them both tremendously for their time and commentary. Sadly, the outcome of the final segment of "From What I've Tasted of Desire" leaves the Avatar and our young waterbender captured and in the clutches of the Fire Nation. Of course, this is why I said nothing will ever be the same: after these events, the fourth part of this saga ("I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire") is entirely new material not present in the canon show. For now, I leave you with a song I believe captures the moment, a beautiful expression of pain and grief from _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron _(I suggest you go play this song, "Sound the Bugle," and listen to its chilling music):_

_Sound the bugle now - play it just for me  
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be  
Now I can't go on - I can't even start  
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart  
I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight  
There's nothing more for me - lead me away . . .  
Or leave me lying here_


	32. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 1

_A/N: __Your gift in celebration of Zutara Month: a brand new chapter on December 1, 2012! __Brief though this chapter might be, you will hopefully find some small fragments of beauty or truth within it. To clarify the timeline, Katara looks back on just shy over two weeks of her journey (in past tense) and then continues to describe forward (in present tense) after the pivotal fifteenth day. __We open with the next stanza from "Sound the Bugle" (the moving song from _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron _that concluded the previous chapter):_

_Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care  
There's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere  
Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark  
Lay right down - decide not to go on_

The first law of imprisonment: "We don't discuss Zuko. We don't discuss Zuko ever again."

From somewhere in the pitch blackness, Aang's voice was small and came after a pause. "Maybe he's on our side and we just don't—"

I shook my head but remembered that he couldn't see it. "No way. It's over. After everything we went through, he should've stuck with us but he didn't." There was also the unspoken: _After I fell in love with him, he should've stuck with me._

But he didn't do that, either.

When he could have stood against his sister, when he could have faced off against the Dai Li and helped us win, Zuko instead turned against us in favor of the Fire Nation. Instead of helping us escape the crystal catacombs, he watched as the Dai Li dragged a captured Aang and I up to the palace where we were met by Ty Lee and Mai. He stood aside with his knife-throwing friend while the chi blocker examined us. I saw Zuko whisper something to Mai. Her eyes carefully watched me and Aang.

Ty Lee disabled my bending abilities and the Avatar's, and only then did Azula inject my friend with another dose of a different liquid—this time, a nearly black substance. He stirred a few minutes after the shot, which was probably an antidote to whatever she gave him the first time. Without his bending, he was no threat and could be kept conscious for a journey across the Earth Kingdom and onto a Fire Nation ship where we were locked into separate metal cages and tossed into the unlit windowless underbelly with only cargo for company.

That was fifteen days ago, fifteen dark days on the first of which I set the first law of our imprisonment. In that time, we developed four laws in total. Each was created because laws provide order to a situation. At a time when all control has been stripped from us, this small fragment of self-generated power lets me pretend there's a small piece of me the Fire Nation will never take away. Pretending is a good game. If I believe hard enough that they'll never break me, I can almost forget the inevitable. I almost can.

Without the sun and moon for guidance, I tracked the time by the number of meals we got. Two small meals equaled one day, each meal brought to us by one guard and Ty Lee, who checked us twice daily to ensure we were still safely chi-blocked. I marked each day by scratching fingernail marks into the wooden floor outside my cage. Fifteen marks meant we'd been sailing just over two weeks. It couldn't be much longer to the Fire Nation. It couldn't be much longer to the beginning of our demise—

I paused. To pursue the thought further would be breaking the second law, which we established on our second day aboard the ship. Here is how this law came to pass.

"Katara," Aang whispered on the second day, seemingly so long ago. He tapped the metal bars of his cage so I had an estimate of his location. Without light, sound and touch became our only methods of communication. Sound because of our voices. Touch because we could reach for each other's hands since the cages were only about a meter apart. If we stretched, our fingertips would brush. The smallness of his fingers and the trembling of mine would mesh together, if only slightly and briefly. Iroh really was onto something. The love behind touch is more than a small thing. It kindles hope.

"Yeah. I'm here," I whispered back. Even though we were alone and not prohibited from speech, to speak loudly in this place felt like a violation of some unspoken code.

"Where do you think they're taking us?"

"Probably to the palace."

"Do you think . . ." His voice, already so small, trailed off into quick breathing. I didn't need to see his face to imagine the worry etched across his usually smiling mouth. "Well, when we're brought to the Fire Lord—"

"Aang, wait," I said, cutting him off. Panicking about the future wouldn't get us anywhere. We needed a second law to keep us from worrying about things we couldn't prevent: "For right now, there's only _right now_. Everything else, we'll face it when it comes."

He sighed. "You're right," he said with a hint of his usual optimism restored. "We'll help each other through this no matter what."

Ours hands reached the bars to touch. "Definitely," I promised.

What we were definitely allowed to address was the past. Without memory of the journey that brought us to this place, we would be like the tree Zuko tried to girdle: leaves severed from the root. My visions are a memory I summoned every day, every single day when Ty Lee and a new guard came to bring us food in the morning and in the evening. Only at these two times did some distant hatch door open to allow the glow of candles to filter through the gloom. The guards—there were different ones that rotated the job, all male—came carrying a tray of food in one hand, a fistful of fire in the other. The tray was rudely dropped between us from a great height. Often the food, just some mush and maybe small cups of rice, splattered across the floorboards. The guards chuckled as they watched Aang and I scrape up dirty rice grains from between the planks. Ty Lee seemed more uncertain, never laughing but also never speaking in our defense. She would look away while we picked for rice grains, but we entertained the guards so they would keep some light in the room just a little longer. The longer they laughed, the longer I could turn my head up to catch firelight on my face. For these few moments, the shadows of our capture seemed further behind me.

Each time I looked at the guards and their fire, I searched their faces for signs of my friend from the beach house. After a few days when it was just the same old ones showing up, I realized none of these men were him. If someone was going to help us escape, it really might be the man of my dreams. Regardless of Iroh's warning, I don't know who else who can help us now. I have faith in the spirits' guidance. I have faith that my beach house friend might represent the same force as the warm and glowing five-pronged headpiece: the strength of even the smallest light to hold back darkness.

I tried to remember these good things. I tried to remember that there's hope for help every day of our imprisonment. On the first day, it was easy. And on the second. And on the third. By the fifth day, flickers of doubt settled in. By the seventh day, silence flowed between Aang and I more than conversation. When we did speak, I suggested we obey a third law: "Let's only talk about our friends and good memories. Like, fruit pies. Tell me about the first time you ever tasted one."

Before he told me about the fruit pies, he explained how it came about that he went to rescue me alone. It was a story related to our friends. While at the Eastern Air Temple training with the Guru, a man named Pathik, he had a vision of me captured underground. "I know how you feel about Zuko—"

"Felt," I snapped.

"But you're still my best friend," Aang went on. "When I saw you were in danger, I had to go help you."

"Aang . . ."

"I understand we don't feel the same way about each other. It's okay," he said. "But . . . I can't just let you go altogether. You're still the spirit who found me in that iceberg. I'll never forget that."

Secretly in the dark, I smiled and blushed just so.

After having the vision, Aang collected my brother at Chameleon Bay and flew back to Ba Sing Se. From Appa's back, they spotted an earthsurfing Toph heading back to the Royal Palace and picked her up as well. They returned to the house, hoping Jin, Tayla, Zuko, or one of the Freedom Fighters might know what happened to me, but the whole place seemed abandoned. Aang continued explaining, but I remained stuck at this one thought: everyone, gone? Zuko and Tayla I can understand, but what happened to Jin and the Freedom Fighters? This is why Aang came to rescue me without backup. While Toph and Sokka went off to warn the Earth King about my kidnapping and search for our other friends in case they were in trouble, too, Aang set off to find me. And for a while down there in the crystal cave, he thought we'd actually get out okay.

"I just can't believe what Zuko—"

"First law," I reminded him. We both kept trying to break that one. "You know, let's not talk about this. How about a happier memory instead . . . tell me about the fruit pies. I'm serious."

In the pause that followed, I imagined Aang smiling. "Okay, fruit pies," he agreed. "Monk Gyatso introduced me to them."

"Monk Gyatso." I thought back way long ago to our day at the Southern Air Temple. "Same one you called the greatest airbender in the world?"

"He taught me everything I know . . . about airbending." Another pause, and this time I wished I _could_ see his face so I might better know what he's thinking. When he goes on, his voice is small and tight. "You've taught me a lot, too. My whole new family has."

A small sound came through the dark, a hushed sniffle that could only be soft crying. Even optimistic Aang was breaking the second law again: thinking of the future and the family we were about to lose forever. "Aang," I whispered through the bars. "Tell me about the fruit pies."

I imagined him smiling sadly and wiping his eyes on his sleeves. "The true secret's in the gooey center. And they're great for splattering bullies." He told me about baking the colorful cakes in orange, purple, red, and yellow colors and how they were warm, sweet, and moist. Though most monks arranged the goo neatly, Aang liked the messy pies best. Carefully arranged food might mean more time was spent arranging than cooking. The heart of a fruit pie is the gooey emotions that go into its creation. Talk of pies brings light into his voice and into my heart, and this inspired the fourth law: "When all else fails, think fruit pies."

Together, these laws and our conversations helped us through the long days—until, on the thirteenth night, there was a storm at sea. The ship bucked and our cages crashed together. We could reach each other's faces. We could smile against each other's fingers. To be in the company of a sad and innocent airbender is to want to be cradled in his light, something so delicate it was quickly extinguished by the stomping of guard feet as they came down to separate the cages again. Someone decided we were too comfortable together. Aang was dragged elsewhere despite my pleas, despite how I uselessly threw myself against the steel cage walls like a bird with its wings tied down.

They didn't bring him back.

On the fourteen day, I collected teaspoons of tears in the cusp of my palms. The liquid rippled with the slightest twitch of my fingers. When Ty Lee and a guard came down to bring breakfast, my fists crushed the water. "Where's Aang?" I demanded.

The guard chuckled as he dropped my usual meal of gloop. He turned away and walked off with his fist of fire, not waiting for me to eat this time.

I grabbed the cold bars. "Please, just tell me if he's safe."

But he said nothing as he turned to go—

"Wait," Ty Lee said. She knelt down beside my cage. "He'll be okay," she whispered. There was something almost apologetic in her voice.

Then they left me alone in the dark as always.

I leaned back against the bars and then curled up on the cage floor. It was a colder day than before. I couldn't choke down this food anymore. To distract myself, I thought of my brother and Toph somewhere far off, waiting and hoping that somehow their friends will be okay. I thought of Aang and how he was also locked up somewhere within this black place. My father was waiting beyond some distant horizon, wondering when he would see his daughter next. I thought of my family and friends and my heart grew warmer for a few precious moments. Meanwhile, somewhere on the wooden floor beyond my cage, the teaspoons of tears trickled through cracks like the hope this imprisonment was slowly stripping from me.

All of this leads up to the fifteen day, on which I discover someone's decided I've been misbehaving. Or maybe I'm just not broken enough yet for their taste, or perhaps I'm too much of a burden and they don't want to waste food on another prisoner who'll be killed anyway in the Fire Nation or reduced to nothing more than a slave.

Either way, this is the day things change.

After the fifteenth day, they stop bringing me food or water. Ty Lee comes on occasion to ensure my bending is still rendered useless, but her appearances seem less frequent. Without the meals or regular visits, there's no way to tell day from night in the underbelly shadows. Some more days pass, how many I don't know since I can't mark them on the floorboards. Now I sleep from boredom and wake to cracked lips and a parched throat. My rest is sporadic, a few stolen hours or minutes or maybe I'm just imagining that I can sleep at all. There are moments when I try to see through the impenetrable darkness and fear that I'm dead already. I touch my cheekbones where water should be running down them, but I've run out of tears. Even if I had the water left to cry, would it matter? There will never be enough tears for this. There will never be enough pain.

No one comes down to see me, at least not when I'm aware and conscious. I whisper just to hear a human voice. To speak in such silence still feels like I'm violating that secret code, but stories breathed aloud are precious light. I tell myself that's the one thing no Fire Nation cage can take from me: the candlelight cast by the echoes of memories. I play my mother's thought-share game with myself and tell stories from my childhood, like playing with Sokka in the snow and learning to cook with Gran-Gran. But as the minutes and hours and maybe even days go on without Aang for company, I run out of whispers. My throat seals up from the hoarseness of continuous speech and the overwhelming grip of thirst. Lightheadedness. That's the only sensation I can understand. I can't tell if my eyes are open or not. Whether behind my eyelids or beyond them, the world folds in on itself as one force of a blackness I can never escape. Why did I have the illusion that I could?

I suppose it's because I've always been wrong about one thing. I thought night is a thing to be feared, but there is one more dangerous force. The sun is the ultimate deceiver. It glows with such light and intensity that you can never gaze at it directly. You see the light pouring from the sky and simply assume, and you trust, that the sun is a force for peace. But that means the sun can keep any secret right in plain sight. It can wear evil on its face and you'll never even see it coming because you're too immersed and certain of its golden warmth to see the light for what it really is: a gilded façade hiding black shadows within.

More days pass, and there comes a moment when I realize maybe I'm no better than the creatures of the Fire Nation. I carry the dark around wherever I go, in the folds of my clothes and attached to my shoes and in the empty spaces inside me. Darkness will always win because it's everywhere. It's the most infinite, unyielding force there is. A candle, like my whispered stories, is temporary. When the wax runs out, you are left in the same place you began: the night. Darkness is part of the very definition of light, isn't it? Without a shadow to contain it, can you have light at all?

I lie down on the hard steel floor. I'm shivering, and when I lay a hand on my forehead I know it's too hot. I thank the spirits for this gift of fever. Perhaps they will save me from this prison, from the Fire Nation, from the Fire Lord's judgment so I'm not thrown at his feet to die. I slip into sleep and out of it, into rest and back out. I begin to forget where I am because it's all the same, all infinite pitch black. But finally the spirits take pity on my broken body. They wrap me in the embrace of winter. They wrap me in the embrace of home.

Gazing out at the wide ocean from my place at the shore, I feel a gust of calming wind move across me. I'm not dressed especially warmly, but it's not cold in the least. I lean over and run my fingers through the sea. I've missed the sea so much. The water that would normally feel like a glacier melting against my hand feels warm and welcoming, like maybe it's inviting me in for a swim. I consider it for a moment, of stripping down to nothing and taking a plunge into the deep water.

The crunch of ice from behind stops me. These are familiar footsteps, ones set down permanently into my memory. I turn expecting to see my friends, but it's not Toph or Sokka. It's not even Aang.

It's my mother.

There are no words for this moment. There are no words for seeing her so close, my _mother_, my mother come back to me. She seems so afraid, so uncertain, as she stands a few feet off clutching a blanket. In a world of blues and grays and whites, the red of the fabric glows like a flame rippling in the wind. Her hands are tight around the blanket as if it's the one hope she has left in the world.

I don't care how this can be happening. The ache building inside my chest, the beautiful tortured pain that is half joy and half grief, says all that matters is we're together again. My footsteps crunch through the snow as I run to hug her so tight. I kiss her left cheek, which strangely feels rougher than the rest of her smooth skin. The wet trails on my face tell me I've remembered how to cry and so many tears are coming, nothing but tears and the longing I sob against her chest because I love her, I _love _her, and I would give everything to never leave her side.

My nose is running along with my eyes. I'm sniffing, wiping my cheeks and face, but there is a river glistening in my eyes that refuses to dry. There is so much love coming to me so quickly. I don't know what do with it, how to give it to her, but I want her to have everything I'm feeling. My mother pulls me down so we're sitting pressed together. She wraps the blanket around her shoulders and my own. We're cocooned in our own private cave of warmth. Her fingers touch my face and tilt my chin up so I'm looking right at her wet, hurting eyes.

"I don't know how, but I'll find a way to protect you," she promises.

_I'll find a way_, and in these words she's said everything.

She's also holding a cup of warm tea that smells like an herbal remedy. My hands are shaking so badly that she has to bring it to my lips and help me drink. Inside a wrapped bundle of fabric, she brought me some steamed rice, meat, and vegetables. My mother feeds me small bites.

"I was given this to bring to you. For luck." She wraps an orange shawl, a fabric so unlike anything in water tribe tradition, around my shoulders beneath the blanket. Wherever it comes from, I know I can believe in the good fortune of this gift because my mother's hands touched it. She is the one person in the world who would never betray me, who once died to save me. If she has influence with the spirits, she'll save me again. And how could the spirits not love someone with such a warm and open heart?

When I'm filled with food and my thirst is quenched, I fall asleep against her shoulder. I breathe the familiar smell of her shirt and neck. Her lips press a kiss to my forehead, but it's really a kiss to my heart. I wish she could stay with me forever, but when I open my eyes next I'm back in the cage with nothing but darkness for company. I start to roll onto an elbow, but something stretched across my body holds me back. I'm almost alone with the darkness, all save for two things:

My mother's red blanket and the orange shawl, which followed me into the real world from a dream to keep me safe.

I touch my forehead. It's warm, but the fever is starting to break. My head is even clearing, though it's still a bit heavy. I pull the blanket and shawl more tightly around my shoulders, glad to have their comforting warmth. In this moment, I discover the fifth law of imprisonment and the first law of life: Darkness is everywhere and it always wins—unless there is a flame strong enough to light the whole world.

Love is the strongest of fires.

Love is the light that remains in dark places when all other lights have gone out.

_A/N: Yes, that final quote is indeed a _Lord of the Rings_ reference for those of you wondering. And if there was not at least some small moment of beauty in that reunion passage, I might as well hang up my hat. I hope you enjoyed reading the (hopefully promising) opening to the fourth part as much as I enjoyed writing it. We conclude on the final stanzas of the ever-so-fitting "Sound the Bugle" (perfect song for this whole sequence, wouldn't you agree?)—but, first, a final note. You guys should really go check out Painted-Blue and register as a member of this awesome new Zutara forum. I'm personally on there a lot, and if you check under the "Writer's Archives" section you'll find a "LadyAvatar's Fanfiction" thread where I answer your questions and post teasers and excerpts from upcoming chapters (there's already a sneak-preview snippet from the next chapter posted). So, go check it out! And now for those lyrics: _

_Then from on high - somewhere in the distance  
There's a voice that calls, "Remember who you are"  
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow  
So be strong tonight - remember who you are_

_Yeah you're a soldier now - fighting in a battle  
To be free once more - yeah, that's worth fighting for_


	33. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 2

_A/N: First of all, credit to Hayao Miyazaki for creating the character of Rin/Lin in _Spirited Away_, the inspiration for the OC Len who enters the story in this chapter (and thank you to JackieStarSister for detecting typos as always). Now, then, words are not enough to describe what is going to happen at the end of this chapter, the one I have been so eagerly dying to write ever since I first posted the introduction to this saga. Nothing will suffice except the opening lyrics to a most epic song I hope you all will recognize for its awe, majesty, and promise of a tremendous journey like the one about to unfold before us all:_

_From the day we arrive on the planet  
And, blinking, step into the sun  
There's more to see than can ever be seen  
More to do than can ever be done  
There's far too much to take in here  
More to find than can ever be found  
But the sun rolling high  
Through the sapphire sky  
Keeps great and small on the endless round_

Loud footsteps, distant light, and male voices somewhere far off pull me toward consciousness. Can't they be quiet? I struggle to return to sleep while I'm wrapped up in a blanket warm as my mother's arms. My head still throbs, though only slightly, like I'm getting over the last traces of a cold. I tug the blanket higher so it's tucked right under my chin. This is a shade of warmth I missed from my childhood, the special shade of comfort when you're recovering from illness in your own bed back home.

"You take her cage up. We'll take the Avatar's . . ."

These voices are wrong, not from my village but from a Fire Nation ship where I'm still help captive. My eyes snap open. I sit up and realize there's enough light to properly see by. For a moment I simply wonder at the fact of rusty firelight on my skin again. My gaze moves to the blanket. Red, with . . . a black Fire Nation insignia? Before I can linger on this thought, I realize there's a shawl draped over me too. Orange, a dark shade, the kind I have only seen on one person's clothes. I fill my lungs with so much air, so quickly, it hurts.

_Aang_. He must have been here. He brought these things to me.

Footsteps again. Someone's descending down the open hatch door, coming to get me. I look at the blanket and shawl gathered in a bundle against my legs. If I'm caught with this stuff, I'm dead and so is Aang. I bunch the blanket into a ball and squeeze it through the bars, tossing it into a corner where it will hopefully go unnoticed. I'm about to do the same with the shawl, but I hesitate. This is Aang's gift, fabric like candlelight meant to rekindle my hope. The guard is coming and I'm scared but I _won't _give this up, I won't, so I stuff it down my shirt beneath my bindings. Now it just looks like extra padding on my chest. Who will question that?

"Looks like we're making a move to the mainland," one of the two guards says. Before they take me anywhere, my arms and legs are bound by rope and a rag is tied around my eyes. Pointless, considering Ty Lee chi-blocks me minutes later once I'm taken upstairs. But I guess they don't want me memorizing a route through the Fire Nation in case I ever escape. Extra safety precautions never hurt.

The next hour or so is: the jolt of my cage as I'm thrown into what is presumably the back of a cart, the stamp of ostrich horse feet as we set off, my cage sliding backwards as we set into an uphill trot. My skin grows sticky with sweat. What I'd like is an outfit with my arms bare, maybe even so air can hit my midriff. It's too hot in this nation for anything else. Maybe that's why firebenders are always restless, itching for conquest, action, because the heat of their weather crawls into their bones and burns there. There's a reason we call most anger _hot_ because rage is usually all fire. Heat drives you to fight, to want to drive knives under the skin of your enemy. It's a dance of initiative and a need to strike out. Conquer. Rule the world.

Much rarer is cold anger, though it is equally dangerous. This is the anger a girl of the Water Tribe holds in her heart against the Fire Nation. She has learned her hatred from the silence of the south and expresses it through a grudge, a constant thoughtful simmer. When she escapes this imprisonment with the Avatar and returns to her friends, she will prove to her hot-blooded captors that ice is also great and will suffice to save the world.

This conviction keeps me strong until the moment when the cart rolls to a halt. This road to somewhere has reached its destination at last. I suck in a breath and hold it, wishing I could see through my blindfold. Voices grow louder. There's a whole group of people standing somewhere close by.

Azula's voice, commanding: "Inform the Fire Lord that Crown Prince Zuko and I have arrived with the Avatar." A beat. "And a small gift courtesy of the Southern Water Tribe. A little waterbender for the slave quarters . . . or his bed, if he's grown bored of his usual girls."

"Yes, princess!" a chorus of voices quickly says.

I dare her to approach me right now. Go on, just try. Next time I see her, I swear, if my only weapons are my teeth then I'll bite her hand even if it means I'm put to death. I am _no one's _sex slave.

My cage is lifted again, then dropped roughly. I hold back a gasp at impact and make sure my mouth remains a thin line betraying no fear or intimidation. There's a creak as the cage door is opened. Someone grabs my arm and drags me out. The bindings around my legs are undone. I'm forced to my feet and told to _walk forward, hurry up! _Presumably, I'm being led up to the palace.

This realization stirs a fresh ember of hope. On a long-ago walk in Ba Sing Se, I told Iroh _from how he dresses in red and black and gold robes, I think he might be someone important from the Fire Nation. _And regarding my visions, Zuko's uncle suggested _if he is indeed an official of high rank from the Fire Nation, the spirits may mean to say you have a friend among the Fire Lord's allies._

What better place to find such an ally than within the walls of the palace itself?

And so I let nameless hands guide me into a cool shadow, presumably the inside of a building, and inside my heart burns with hope. I'm bound to meet him here, this friend of mine who's going to rescue me. Somehow, without really knowing how, I am absolutely certain of this truth.

"Azula, wait!" I recognize that voice as Zuko's coming from behind me. In fact, there are many footsteps all around like we're traveling in a pack. If only I could get this blindfold off and actually see.

"Yes, dear brother?" the fire princess says carefully. My teeth grind as I remember that all of this is, still, that traitor's fault. Even the sound of his voice grates on me.

"Where are you taking them?"

_Them. _Aang might be somewhere in this crowd, too. Or maybe Zuko's just referring to other prisoners who were on the ship with us? _Stupid._ _Blindfold._ I toss my head as if such a small gesture could shake the tied cloth loose. Someone's hand smacks the back of my head to calm me.

"To our prisons for safekeeping," Azula says. "We will deal with them soon enough. First, you and I have a ceremony to attend in honor of your return and the Avatar's capture—"

There are hurried footsteps and the sound of quick breathing, like that of a person who just ran a long distance. "Princess, I apologize for the interruption." This is a new voice, by the sound of things a messenger or a servant. "The Fire Lord sends word to see his new prisoners immediately."

Azula's voice is tight and cold. "Tell _Father _we have an arrangement with Li and Lo. There are citizens waiting—"

"I'm sorry, but it's not a request," the messenger says.

She huffs. "Fine. Take the peasant down to our prisons. I'll bring the Avatar to see my father—"

"His orders were clear to see _both_," the messenger explains, sounding apologetic or frightened. "The Avatar and the Water Tribe girl."

"I think we should get them both cleaned up before Father sees them." This is Zuko's voice again. I sigh. Why did I ever think the royal family would help me?

"Why?" Azula snaps. "Do you think he will mind how we treat filthy prisoners? Especially some _waterbender_." Her way her voice handles the shape of my name makes it sound like she's tasting poison or something sick, like human filth.

"We both need time to get changed, too. Please. Consider it _my _request."

She chuckles. "You're pathetic, Zuzu. Caring for every lowlife. But, fine. Since you seem so worried about them, we can be generous." Her voice turns rough. "Fetch Len. _Now_."

"Yes, princess!" calls another chorus of servant voices. There is a wild scramble of running feet and then quiet.

Slow footsteps circle me. "What do you think Father will do with them?" Azula says thoughtfully.

"As long as we keep the Avatar chi-blocked, he'll probably just keep him imprisoned," Zuko says.

"Yes, but what about _this _one." I suddenly feel a hand under my chin and sharp fingernails digging into my cheeks. "A Fire Lord _never _has time for pathetic slaves. If he wishes to see her, specifically, he must have something delicious in store."

I grin and hear Azula hiss _what's funny, peasant? _Then I lunge and bite straight into her hand. One last act of defiance to remind her the Fire Nation can't break me. Not ever.

She rips her hand from my mouth. "Filthy _bitch_," the princess snaps, losing her temper. "I thought starvation might teach her obedience, but fine!" Azula rips the blindfold off my eyes, and now I see her face is flushed with rage. "In prison, _peasant_, you will breathe your _last _breath—"

"Princess!" A group of servants runs over and bows respectfully. "We called for Len. She'll be here shortly—"

"What, what? Everyone calm down, I'm already here. What's going on?"

Unlike the other servants, who are dressed entirely in simple dark red robes with brown sashes around the waist, the older girl now approaching us wears a waist sash of black and gold. She's in her early or mid-twenties, with lush, loose black hair curling down to the mid-back. A small gold hairpiece holds up her topknot. It glimmers as she glances at Azula. "Well, what's wrong? Who are these two?"

She looks from Azula, to me, to—

"_Aang!"_ I shriek. He's a few feet away from me, each arm held up by a guard. He's been knocked unconscious again, probably by that same injection used on him back in Ba Sing Se. I guess in the Fire Lord's palace, they're not taking any chances.

A guard slaps me across the head. "Quiet," he orders.

"Len," Azula says. "Take _this_"—she points at me—"and clean it up. Be ready in half an hour."

"What? Aww, come on," the servant, Len, complains. "Can't you get someone else to do it? Why do you have to dump her on me?"

My jaw slackens. What happened to _princess! _and groveling? Len's standing there with her arms crossed, hip thrust out, eyebrows quirked. Totally standing up to Azula . . . and the fire princess seems to be taking it?

"_Sorry_," Azula says delicately, grinning wickedly and not sounding sorry at all. "My dear brother wanted someone to clean her up before she's taken to see the Fire Lord. You do the best job when it comes to pleasing Father."

Len's eyes narrow. "Fine," she grumbles. "Thanks a lot." She rolls her eyes stalks off, calling back, "Keep up!" When I don't move, she swings around and plants a hand on her hip. "That means you! Geez, I get saddled with all the idiots."

Someone shoves me forward. I fall flat on my face, much to be entertainment of some giggling servants. When I look up, I notice that Zuko's taken a few steps towards me. Almost as if, maybe, he'd meant to help me up and then remembered his place—and his _betrayal. _I can't stand to look at him. Instead I look at Aang, so weak and helpless in those men's rough hands. If they hurt him—

"Move!" a guard snaps, threatening to smash me with the back of his hand. I take the hint. With my wrists still bound, I push up to my feet and waddle off after Len. Before I'm entirely out of range, I notice Azula showing her hand to a group of concerned servants. "Does this look infected?" she asks. I chuckle to myself and then turn a corner to follow my escort.

I have to take two steps to match Len's one long stride. She keeps throwing me glances. "Water Tribe?" she asks, probably recognizing my clothing. I nod, not sure if I'm actually allowed to address her and not wanting to be smacked again. "What, can't talk?" she asks.

"Yes I can. _Ma'am_," I add quickly. I don't need another person to hate me in the palace.

"So where'd they catch you? Down in the north or south? Oh, wait . . . you're that friend of the Avatar's. Ozai mentioned this. They caught you in Ba Sing Se, right?"

Ozai? _Fire Lord Ozai?!_ The way she addressed him . . . she seems to feel privileged in how she refers to the royal family. "Yeah," I say carefully. "I'm the Avatar's friend. And you are . . . ?"

"Len. You already got that."

I try to respectfully probe for information. "You're a servant, ma'am?"

As we turn a corner and approach two wooden doors, she pats her black and gold waist sash. "A pretty important one," she says, then pushes the doors open. We're in a small room where a wooden chair, a basket of water, and three servant girls with regular sashes are waiting. The girls are young, not much older than me. They're sitting in a circle chattering but look up when we enter.

"Hey, Len!" a one girl calls, her hair not even reaching her shoulders. "Oh, you brought a friend?"

"Ugh, kind of," my escort says. "She's been dumped on us. We have to clean her up for a meeting with Ozai."

"Oooooh," the girls say, crowding around me. Aside from the short-haired girl, I memorize the other two as one girl with painted red fingernails and one with her eyelids dusted faintly gold.

They sit me down in the chair. Len squats in front of me. She pulls out a small knife from her pocket. I gasp, but she only uses the blade to cut through my wrist bindings. "Calm down, kid. No one's going to hurt you," she says. "They must've really gotten you spooked."

The girls start to work on my hands and feet, scrubbing away dirt and manicuring my fingernails. Len unbraids my hair and starts to brush it out. She ties a topknot for me and pins it in place with a hairpiece of my own. A small, golden flame.

"So what are you going to see the Fire Lord for?" the short-haired girl asks.

"He wants to see his new prisoners," Len answers before I can open my mouth. "She's a friend of the Avatar's."

"The _Avatar_," the girl with gold-dusted eyelids whispers in awe. "Wow. So he's really _real_? Not just a rumor?"

"I saw him myself," Len proudly announces.

"Is he as handsome as the Fire Lord?" the girl with red fingernails asks. She leans close to me. "Len's had a crush on the Fire Lord for _ages_," she explains in a whisper. She's rewarded by a slap across the face with a towel.

"Will you quit spreading that stupid rumor?" Len huffs. She wrings the towel in her hands like she'd probably like to wring the girl's neck.

"Then you shouldn't call him _Ozai _and sound all dreamy about it," the short-haired girl teases. She ducks to avoid the stinging smack of Lin's towel. "He's got a proper title, you know."

"So does my girlfriend," Len snaps.

I'm pulled out of the chair and, without warning, stripped down to my wrappings. Len tosses my Water Tribe clothes on the chair before I can argue. Then the girls start to dress me in simple red outfit to match their own. Len ties a brown sash around my waist. There's a mirror in the room, which I glimpse from far off. Aside from my blue eyes and dark skin, I'm all Fire Nation. Bushy new hair style and all.

"If there were a waiting list to be one of his concubines, you'd strangle everyone else just to be first in line," the girl with red fingernails says.

Len rolls her eyes. "If he were fucking around with anyone, I'd know." She combs through a particularly rough tangle in my hair with enough skill that I barely notice the tug. "I'm practically his babysitter."

"Maybe his sex slaves have their tongues cut out or he keeps them locked her up in some secret closet?" the girl with gold-dusted eyelids suggests.

"Please. I'd be the one cutting their tongues and remembering to bring their meals," Len insists. "He can't hide a thing from me. Props of being his head servant."

The girl with red fingernails giggles. "You could be the new girl and no one could hide anything from you anyway."

Len's eyes narrow. "Speaking of which, I got a bone to pick with you." She pokes the girl's forehead with the sharp point of a comb. "You swapped dinner duties with Ming last week. You think I don't know what you and Chan were up to in the kitchens? Especially since I had to clean up your sick mess afterwards."

The girl's face burns the color of my new clothes. "Uh . . . hey, you know what? I just remembered that I've got some, uh, _laundry_ duty! I think I'll catch up with you guys later—"

Len grabs my wrist. "Yeah, run off. I'll track you down in the evening. I better escort her or she'll get lost. Come on."

I'm dragged back outside into the hall. We set off at a quick pace, Len in the lead. I half jog, half run to keep up. "So . . . _you're _the Fire Lord's head servant?" I ask, remembering this snippet from the girls' conversation.

She smirks at my surprise. "What, expecting someone double the muscle and half the brains?"

"No, not a _man_ necessarily—"

"You mean someone older? Yeah, well. Before his coronation, Ozai saw me working around the palace and getting more done than the rest of the staff combined. They know I'm his favorite. They listen. Now, _you _listen." Len pauses and squats down so we're on eye level. "Ozai's not a scary man if you don't give him a reason to hurt you. Just don't look at his eyes, be polite, and don't speak unless you're directly addressed. You'll be fine."

Oh. _That _sounds completely not scary at all. I'm glad she doesn't seem to notice my knees shaking or my hands trembling. I stick close to her as we keep walking. How am I supposed to know what might or might not give the Fire Lord a reason to hurt some little Water Tribe girl who's on the Avatar's side?

We turn one final corner and pause at the end of a very long hallway lined with torches along the walls. A path of gold lined by two red stripes leads to a hanging curtain on the far wall. The red fabric, emblazoned with a yellow Fire Nation emblem, looks oddly alive. The slightest breath of air sends a ripple along up the curtain. The illusion is that of living firelight.

"There you are," Azula snaps. She, Zuko, and the two guards holding a still-unconscious Aang are already waiting.

Len nudges me forward gently, her fingers pushing squarely between my shoulderblades. "Good luck," she whispers.

I move forward to join the assembled party. Instinct alerts me to danger waiting beyond the veil, but I remind myself that every living creature fears the unknown. How we handle that fear and pass through the door from known into our nightmares makes all the difference. And so even though a cold grip takes hold of my stomach and breathes ice into my blood, I try to wipe my face clean of emotions. Whatever creature I face at the heart of this palace, at the heart of the Fire Nation, at the heart of this hundred-year war—I will face him knowing that once I've stood before the man the world hates most and I have exposed myself to the blackest of my fears, no fear will reign over me again. And then, truly, the Fire Nation will have no power over my defiance.

Even enslaved, I will be free.

I'm so immersed in these thoughts that I only distantly give recognition to Zuko's wide-eyed gaze at the fabric as Azula tugs it open. He's breathing quickly, not even trying to hide some inner turmoil making its way into his face. He squeezes his eyes shut, eyebrows bunched together. Then he follows his sister through the curtain, leaving only Aang and I on this side. The guards wait until I step forward. They follow behind to make sure I don't try to run. As I pass through, the fabric whispers against my hands. My last thought is that, when the servant girls were dressing me, they let me keep my wrappings. That means Aang's shawl is still a candle against my heart.

Then I'm on the other side, looking down a long row of pillars to a burning grate on the far side.

There's a man sitting on a throne beneath an archway. The flames veil his face in darkness, though the glimmering headpiece crowning his topknot looks oddly familiar even from this distance. We cross the room, Azula still in the lead. When we're almost at the grate of fire, she drops to one knee. Zuko follows suit, as do the guards. One of them drags me down so I'm kneeling, too.

"Father," Azula says. "Crown Prince Zuko has returned with the Avatar and the waterbender. We present you the prisoners now."

Len warned _just don't look at his eyes_, but I can't help but look up at the wall of fire. My breathing's more rapid and shallow now. I feel my pulse pound in my temples as the man with the five-pronged headpiece stands. A beat. Nothing but breathing. Then he steps through the fire, and suddenly there are no words. There are no words for what happens when his gaze passes from Azula, to Zuko, to Aang, to the guards, to _me._

Though his face remains impassive and his eyes betray no recognition, what matters is that I'm familiar with a few important features. He is certainly for want of a scar, but there is distinct likeness between him and the boy I loved before he betrayed us in the crystal catacombs. This man's face is more angular than Zuko's, and of course there is that chin beard like the tip of a dragon's tail. He wears the robes I have come to recognize, the ones that look like a dress.

I know him. Of course I do.

And this means that in the end Iroh was right, and the spirits were wrong, and I was wrong. Iroh warned that _it would be best if your paths never crossed_, and only now kneeling do I see he was right. The man who brushed my hair, the man who sang _four seasons _to me, the man who carried me until he collapsed from blood loss—this man won't help me defeat the Fire Lord no matter how much I might wish he would.

Because the man from my dreams _is _the Fire Lord.

_A/N: No evil twins. No trickety-tricks. The man of Katara's visions is, indeed, Fire Lord Ozai. Before you guys go crazy with predictions, allow me to make this official statement: Ozai, Katara, and Zuko will all feature in the final scene of this story (so he's here to stay). Now, if you love this story and appreciate the hundreds of hours I have invested so far and will continue to invest on behalf of this epic, I hope you will humor one humble request: in the review box below, please leave me your immediate emotional response to this twist of fate so I can grin like an idiot at your (excited? horrified? thrilled?) reactions. For now, I depart and leave you with this message:_

_It's the Circle of Life  
And it moves us all  
Through despair and hope  
Through faith and love  
Till we find our place  
On the path unwinding  
In the Circle  
The Circle of Life_


	34. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 3

_A/N: So, remember that Ozai-centric one-shot I promised you guys on Christmas Day? It's in the works, I promise, but it's now been pushed off a bit thanks to the following: in creating this story over a year ago, I came up with an extensive and richly detailed headcanon Urzai background. Unfortunately for this story, "The Search" comic is now going to going to establish actual canon for Ursa's history that I'm going to try to follow if possible (because my intention was never to rewrite history). I only thought about this after some leaks came out about "The Search" a few days ago . . . and that Ozai one-shot happened to have a whole lot of my Urzai headcanons packed in. So now I'm cutting all that out (for the time being) while I wait to see what will happen in "The Search." Instead, I'm rewriting the one-shot to focus on young Ozai's family life (per headcanon beliefs, obviously). It should be released on New Year's Day, and for now you get this new chapter instead._

When I was growing up, there was something especially satisfying about falling backward into fresh snow and sculpting my body into white fluff. For a few short moments while stray flakes spiraled onto my face from the looming gray sky, my arms and legs swept into the shapes of wings. Before cold could seep through my mittens and wrinkle my fingers, I quickly rolled out of the mold to examine the form. A sketch of the self in snow. Likewise throughout our lives, we leave imprints of ourselves in other mediums. Imagine every person you pass by every day of your life, like the many people my friends and I passed by on our long journey to this place. However briefly our roads intersected, I left an imprint of myself on their lives just as I left on the snow in my childhood days. Sometimes you can erase these images like you can erase a snow sculpture with your mitten. Sometimes they stick for life. There's no telling at the first crossroads of destiny.

But there are definitely things you know right from the first encounter, and here is what I know for sure already: I want this hated demon out of my dreams. I want him to slowly die suffering because he deserves the most painful and tortured of deaths, the monster because of whom I lost my mother and so many people have been hurt. If I wasn't afraid for Aang's sake, I would lunge and claw through his face. If I had my bending, I would summon water and channel a thousand frozen fragments of ice through his body. I would rip the blood from his veins without hesitation or regret.

But because my actions might reflect in punishment for Aang, I tear my gaze away from that monster and stare at the floor instead. I'm trembling, not from fear but because I'm now fighting an unbearable urge to fist my hands against my hair. I want to get up, shriek, stumble backwards, maybe run against a wall to break out of this nightmare. Because this _can't _be happening. The spirits are my friends. They're meant to guide and not trick me into a false hope with dreams that lead to this murderous _thing _of a man—

A chuckle grounds me back in the moment. "So, _this _is the Avatar." I look up to see the Fire Lord standing above Aang. His mouth is a fanged smirk as he stares down at my friend's unconscious body hanging limply between the two royal guards. "After generations of Fire Lords failed to find you, now the universe delivers you to me as an act of providence. And after all that time, you are still nothing more than a weak, pathetic child."

His voice is sleazy and disgusting but seemingly so ordinary, only I know the black creature hiding behind human language. I bite my lower lip to keep my mouth shut. I'm trembling with the force of my restraint. How _dare _he address Aang like that? If only I had my bending to teach him a lesson. If only I could use that dark power the spirits gave me in the visions, the one in which I could enforce my own will over this monster's body.

The Fire Lord looks at Zuko again, who is still kneeling on the ground. "Well, I suppose the Avatar's capture was not entirely divine intervention. You have been away for a long time, but I see the weight of your travels has changed you. I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you helped your sister conquer Ba Sing Se. I am proud because you managed to convince the Avatar and his friends to trust you until the moment of truth. I am proud of your legendary accomplishment: you have finally captured the Avatar. In doing so, you have redeemed yourself at last. Now, rise." Zuko looks up, and the Fire Lord nods without smiling. "Welcome home, my son."

I want Zuko to stay put. I want him to keep kneeling or, if he does stand, for him to punch his father's face for what that monster has done and is going to do. But my former friend doesn't do either thing. He bows his head and murmurs _thank you, Father_—perfectly in character for the role of _spineless coward _he's recently degenerated into. Then Zuko stands up along with Azula. The two royal children take their places on either side of the Fire Lord, who now returns his attention to Aang.

"And so the Avatar is ours," he says as he stalks around behind the airbender. "Such trouble over a boy who can't even defend himself in my presence. Lock him in the prisons, where he can remain for life," he orders. "He's so weak, just like the rest of his people."

A hurricane force of anger plows through my chest. The moon rises in my memory, gifting me strength and courage. I'm physically kneeling, but I don't feel myself here. My hate for this evil nation whispers in my mind. My fingernails dig into my palms, drawing the blood I want to scratch out of the Fire Lord's black heart.

"Good thing they are all gone now," he says as the guards take Aang away. "They did not deserve to exist in this world, in _my_ world—"

Enough. My eyes snap to his face. "You know you can't really wipe out all the other benders!" I yell from where I'm still kneeling on the floor. "A long time ago, we weren't born with these powers. We learned them from the moon and sky bison and badger moles. Maybe there are already other airbenders out there. One day, they'll join with the other nations to take you down!"

However good it felt to say those words, I know it was stupid and rash the moment the Fire Lord's mouth thins to a tight line.

I already know what's coming: because I've offended his mighty royal ego, the Fire Lord will summon a guard from some dark corner of the palace to come teach me a lesson. I will scramble to my feet and start backing off, but I'm chi-blocked and there's no water anyway. There will be no way to defend myself from the guard's stone-solid grip when he grabs my wrist. I will jerk away, and the guard will bring a hand across my face. It won't be a quick, clean slap but a full force blow. The impact will throw me backwards. Tears will prick into my eyes as pain slashes across my jawline. The man will grab my feet where I've fallen and drag me into a perfect position from which to kick. His book will connect with my knee, my thigh, my chest and chest and chest again. I will scratch out with my fingernails, but what will a fourteen-year-old girl's hands do against a man kicking her as if she's an empty bottle in the street? He'll pull me to my feet. I'll try to wrench away, but he'll catch me by the hair and twist me around so I'm facing the Fire Lord. And then the man who came to me in spirit visions will smirk and pull his fist back. Black flames will curl around his fingers, and he'll burn me. He'll scar me across the face for my defiance, just as he once scarred his very own son.

I'm so certain of these facts that I've already braced my body for physical impact when the Fire Lord's gaze moves from my face to my throat. I imagine how I must look to him: a dark-skinned, blue-eyed girl who otherwise is dressed entirely as a daughter of the Fire Nation in her red outfit. Wait, not entirely red. My hand involuntarily follows his gaze to my mother's necklace. A carved promise. Len and her girls didn't take this from me, either. It's the one fragment of Water Tribe heritage I have left.

As the Fire Lord looks at this necklace, his eyes narrow just slightly. Then he does the incredible: instead of ordering a guard to attack me, instead of attacking me himself, he simply looks at Azula. "What do you think we should do with this friend of the Avatar?"

She examines me as if I'm a delicious cake she's just been given permission to taste. "My private quarters have been awfully lonely and boring recently," she complains, feigning sadness.

"Azula, I can't keep foraging for fresh companions for you," he growls. "How many servant girls do you require at one time?"

"But I would love some new company." By the sound of it, it's like she's asking for a new pet and I'm a stray up for adoption. "May I have her, Father?"

"May _I_ request her? As my reward for capturing the Avatar."

I glance at Zuko. He certainly looks the part of a Crown Prince in the new royal armor he's wearing. It's mostly sable but with fine scarlet and gold details and the Fire Nation insignia emblazoned on the front directly below his neck. His words remind me of the power he now possesses around the palace to make his own demands, but my muscles tense regardless as the Fire Lord turns his back to me. "Why do you desire her company?" he asks, too carefully.

"I have only a few servants, unlike Azula," Zuko says just as cautiously. "And this girl is good at housekeeping. I've seen her take care of the Avatar's team."

The Fire Lord turns around and smirks, a cruel grin of condescension. I'm surprised he hasn't sharpened his teeth into fangs that poke out over his lips. They'd fit him. "Mothering behavior," he says, laughing as if this is some great joke. "Only to be expected. Waterbenders are just as pathetic as airbenders, healing the undeserving weak and bringing them hope."

"Plus, she's defiant," Zuko points out. "My sister tried to break her on the ship, but she's still resistant. I'll finish the job. I have a personal bone to pick with her, anyway."

Azula crosses her arms. "But _I_ asked first. Father, I want her."

I can't take this. I can't take these three firebenders standing around deciding my fate. I press my lips together and stare at the ground, hoping to conceal the anger starting to burn inside me. What does Zuko want with me, anyway? To break me, huh? I'm sure. He probably sees now that his betrayal alone down in the catacombs wasn't enough. But if he's got something worse in store, I dare him to test me. I'll show him. Just wait until we're alone—

"Very well, she shall be your reward in exchange for the Avatar."

I allow my eyes to flicker up long enough to see Zuko nod respectfully, his face entirely absent of emotion beyond satisfaction. Azula's mouth is tight, her arms crossed tighter still. "You may have the next prisoner," the Fire Lord assures his daughter. "Now, if there is no further business, you both are dismissed. Take this girl"—he gestures at me—"to Len so she may instruct her on the rules of servitude."

Then the Fire Lord crosses back through the grate of fire without giving any of us a second glance. The flames curl around his robes without touching the fabric as his bending sweeps them aside.

"Get up," Azula snaps at me.

"She's _my_ servant," Zuko reminds her. "She'll get up when I say so. Katara, please get up."

The fire princess glares at her brother as I follow them both out of the throne room. As we near the curtain, I release a breath I hadn't realize I'd been holding. The fabric skims like water over my hands and face as I slip through. Only once on the other side do I finally acknowledge this truth: I am not going to be killed. At least, not yet.

Len is lounging on the far side of the hall. She comes over when we emerge, hands propped on her hips again. "So, how was it?"

"Father assigned her among my servants," Zuko explains. "Would you please teach her what she needs to know about the palace and then escort her to my private quarters?"

"Sure, you got it. Come on," Len tells me. As I follow her down the hall, I can't help but overhear arguing behind me. I glance back over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Zuko facing off against Azula. They're only using their words, none of which quite reach me, but I'm sure it's fear of their father beyond the veil that keeps it from evolving into a fight with fire. Surely I'm not important enough to argue over?

Then we turn the corner, and suddenly everything that happened back in the throne room seems so distant. I realize it's because my imprisonment has now been divided into two phases: the half in which I hoped the man from my dreams might help me, and the half in which I understand I'm really on my own. What was the point of the visions, then? What truth could they possibly contain? Could they simply be metaphors I'm supposed to draw secret meaning from?

I suddenly knock into Len, who turns around grinning. She bumps my shoulder with her fist. "See? You made it out just fine. Not a scratch on you."

"I guess," I say sadly. Doesn't mean that's how things are going to stay for much longer.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

I've made it this far without tears running down my cheeks. Until I'm alone, I refuse to cry no matter how much my body demands I do this very thing. For now, I try to continue wiping my face clean of emotion. "I'm okay. Just a little tired."

Len squeezes my shoulder. "Hey, learning about servant life can wait till tomorrow," she says, her voice all warmth. "Let's get some food in you first. Stay put till I get back."

She goes off, leaving me alone in the hall. I press my back against the wall and slide down so my knees are tucked close to my chin. What I'd like is to stay curled up in this ball forever to stay as far away from today as I can. To keep my thoughts away from the still unbelievable truth of my spirit visions, I try to understand the rationale behind Zuko's request. Guilt? Some perception of debt owed that he'd like to repay by at least keeping me out of Azula's clutches?

"Check this out," Len says, approaching with a large bowl and a plate. "I snuck some good stuff from the kitchens." She hands me a bowl of thick vegetable soup stirred with chunks of meat. The plate contains nutty cheese, fruits in a rainbow of colors, and a fat slice of cake. She sits beside me as I stuff myself full of food that distracts me from more serious problems.

"That's really pretty," she says suddenly.

I try to say _what is? _around a mouthful of stew, but it comes out as a grunt.

She points. "That blue choker. Where'd you get it?"

I touch the hand-crafted jewel bearing a symbol of waterbending. This necklace holds more than an engraving. It's a family heirloom that has evolved into my most treasured possession. The story of how I got it begins a few months after my mother's death. For the past many weeks, Gran-Gran had taken care of Sokka and me because our father was rarely around. I was finally beginning to emerge from the _I want my mother, my mother is dead _phase of grieving, and it was after that day when I lay on the shoreline of ice-meets-water and decided I _had _to go on living without her no matter how heavy the pain of memory might be. This didn't stop me from missing her hands in my hair, her kisses on my nose, her arms around my shoulders to warm me up with hugs on extra cold nights.

One evening shortly after that day by the shore, I lay tucked in my bed of furs in Gran-Gran's hut when I decided there was something I had to know. Sokka was asleep beside me, but I didn't wake him. Sometimes there are things you just have to do alone. Even if you don't know why exactly, somehow you just _know_. So I snuck out of the hut into the frosty night. When the wind blew, it dusted my hair with snowflakes and froze the tip of my nose. But that didn't keep me from sneaking to my father's hut and crawling through the animal skin flap leading inside.

He was asleep on his side when I got there, snoring softly. I tugged back his blanket furs and curled my cold body against his chest. I pushed my face against his neck and grabbed on to the collar of his shirt. He was so warm, just like my mother had always been. I wanted my father to kiss me and tell me things were going to be okay for our family. And that, somewhere far off, my mother was okay too.

He opened his eyes so suddenly, without warning. One second he was completely asleep, the next entirely awake. Life is sometimes like that. The end of one thing and the beginning of another, happening so fast there's barely a crossing.

_Katara_, he said, sitting up quickly. _What's wrong? Where's your grandmother? Where's Sokka? _

_Sleeping_, I said. They'd sure been sleeping when I'd sneaked off, my brother snoring loudly enough I was shocked he didn't keep the whole village awake.

My father set me down on his lap and hugged me from behind. _So what are you doing up late, huh? _His voice was so gentle.

_Do you think Mom misses us?_ I asked.

Just like that, no preface. I let the words out and then turned around to look at his face. I had to see how his eyes looked. Even as a little girl, I knew that's where real truth hides.

But his eyes were closed again. The water on his eyelashes was my only hint at the things going on inside his heart. My father cradled me against his chest. He kissed my forehead with his cold lips. _I have something for you_, he said. And while I sat on his nest of furs, he went across the room and kneeled beside a closed chest. He unlocked it and reached inside. When he turned around, I saw he was holding a small brown cloth.

_What's that? _I asked, pointing.

He sat down on the bed of furs across from me. _It's a gift from your mother so you always remember how much she loves you._

My father unwrapped the cloth. I started breathing so fast when I saw my mother's necklace, the one with the pendant that looked like pretty blue waves and water. I'd loved that necklace. I thought it was gone forever. _She wants me to have it? _I asked.

He fastened the heirloom around my neck. _She misses you so much_, he whispered. _But you know what? Now she always gets to be with you. Right here. Forever. _

The whole time he spoke, he kept one finger on the jewel. My tiny hands grabbed on to his hand and held on. I didn't want him to leave again. I crawled into his lap and curled up against him, and I was so warm again. In a place where both my parents were with me again, my father hugging me and my mother as a memory in my heart, I was good and safe for the first time since we lost her.

However complicated things have gotten between us, I've never forgotten that night alone with my father and the necklace and me.

But Len doesn't need to know all of this. "It's a betrothal necklace," I explain to her, keeping things simple.

"Betrothal, huh? I guess the lucky boy's waiting back home."

I can feel an unmistakable blush heating my cheeks. "No, it's not mine. It was made for my grandmother. She passed it down to my mother. Then I got it."

Len grins. "Oh, good. I was starting to worry for poor Zuko."

I blink. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't see the way he kept looking at you?" She waves her hand dismissively. "Well, of course not. Boys never stare at the girls they like while the girl's _looking_. Oh, speaking of which," she adds quickly before I can get a word in edgewise. "Let's get you to his room before he wonders why we're gone so long."

It occurs to me that her smug grin conceals a completely crazy person. Then again, she doesn't know my history with Zuko and how insane that idea comes off to me. She didn't see him betray me in the catacombs after all we'd been through. She wasn't there for the cold nights on the Fire Nation ship when Zuko could have come to help me and didn't. She doesn't know anything except servant gossip according to which everyone probably likes everyone else. But at least I don't think she's my enemy, and in a place where I'm otherwise entirely alone that's pretty important.

We weave through some palace halls that again look unfamiliar, at least for now. Soon enough I'll know my way around every room and corridor . . . and hopefully even around the prisons. It might take longer than a few days or even weeks, but maybe I can find a way to free Aang myself before the eclipse. Hmm. If we're in the Fire Lord's palace itself, maybe there's a way for the Avatar to stop the Fire Nation after all . . .

"Here we are!" Len says, jabbing her thumb towards a great double door. "Zuko's room is through here. Now, don't worry. I'll come check up on you later. My job is to keep tabs on all the servants. If you need anything in the meantime, come find me." She winks. "I've got your back, kid."

Before I can decide whether I'm ready to face Zuko on my own or not, she tugs the doors open and shoves me inside. I stumble into the dark room and look up to the sight of not an armored prince but a boy in simple gold and red robes sitting with his feet crossed in the middle of a four-poster bed. Zuko's hands are cupped in his lap. Flickering above his open palms is a small fire, so weakly glowing it seems like the tip of a candle about to go out. At the sound of twin doors slamming shut, he glances up and the flame burns hotter. We are left facing each other across a span of darkness illuminated only by that lone fire.

"Katara," he says. His voice is absolutely unreadable. "I think it's time we talk."

_A/N: Here's some trivia—did you know that during the show, Ozai met every member of Team Avatar at some point in time except for Katara? Sad, isn't it? Also sad is the fact that we can't read Ozai's mind to know what he was thinking during that encounter, hmm? Not to worry. He and Katara get to have a private fireside chat fairly soon, and by "soon" I mean in the next chapter. Ah, and you know what else this Zutara saga is lacking? Some actual Zuko/Katara alone time might be nice, wouldn't it? Looks like the next chapter will satisfy that desire, too! Excited, m'dears?_

_P.S. Regardless of what holiday you may celebrate this wonderful winter, I hope everyone has a happy holiday season! Love and hugs for all you amazing readers. Also, I'm working on a mini side-project for _Legend of Korra _that might interest you guys if you like my writing style (plus there's more of my usual philosophy in there, if that's any draw). I'd love for you guys to check out that story, which is also posted on my FFN account. _


	35. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 4

_A/N: Two chapters ago (when I introduced Ozai for the first time), Cupuffle left some of the highest praise possible for this saga: "This story is so captivating that I am completely and utterly positive that it will join Stormbenders, My Heart Burns For You, Beyond The Rising Sun and The Black Games in the hall of pure, epic genius." Whether this story ever truly becomes as epic as those other legendary works, I would like to again thank each and every one of you guys for taking the time to read this story. For now, I hope you enjoy this update (which I was concerned about, but apparently you guys like it!). _

Fear. That's the first thing I feel when Zuko leans over to a nightstand beside his bed and transfers the candlelight in his hands to a real wick. After disentangling himself from the sheets, he swings his legs over the side and stands. We look at each other. He moves past me more quietly than a breeze. He stops at the door to ensure it's firmly locked. Then he stands facing the door and not looking at me, his shoulders tensed. Probably thinking of all the things he'd like to do to me. Who will protect me here? His black-hearted murderous father? Len, for all her spunk, is still a servant whose word is ultimately powerless against that of a prince. No one can help me now but myself. That's just fine by me.

Zuko's shoulders relax. "I think she's gone," he says, and only then do I understand he was listening at the door for Len to go. Now I'm really alone, but I won't let myself be entirely vulnerable. I scan the room for any kind of weapon. There's a glass of water on the nightstand. I reach out and hope the liquid will come to me—no, still chi-blocked. Instead I grab the glass and smash it against the wall. It shatters into shards that clatter against the wooden floor like ice fragments. I tug my long sleeve over my hand and grab a sharp sliver through the fabric. Let Zuko try to attack me now.

But when I turn on my heel to face him, the prince is still staring at the door. The single candle lighting the room paints his silhouette a dusty yellow. Two emotionally incompatible thoughts occur to me: that his feet are bare and probably cold, and that I could easily stab him in the back with the glass shard before he could turn to block me.

His body shudders with the weight of a pained exhale. "Katara, listen," he says to the door. "I know you're probably confused—"

"Confused?" I echo. "I don't think things have ever been clearer."

He finally looks at me. In the dim light, I can make out nothing of his expression except a faint glimmer of familiar gold irises. "I need a chance to explain."

My fist tightens around the glass fragment. I can feel it cutting into my palm even though my sleeve. "You think I'm going to give you a _chance_? I've given you nothing but chances! I trusted you with my life. With Aang's life! And what did that chance lead to?" Just looking at that traitor makes me sick. I step away and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my head.

"You don't understand—"

"No, _you _don't!" I stare past him at the wall. I refuse to give him the dignity of meeting his gaze because he hasn't earned it. "You think there's any way I can trust you after everything you've done?"

He opens his palms and holds his hands up. A symbol of peace and surrender. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to listen."

"No, I won't! I thought you were an actual human being with feelings, but it was just what your father said. You got us to trust you so we'd let our guard down, and then after everything you sold us out to your sister! You threatened to _kill _me. Remember that?" I hold up the glass and angle it carefully. Candlelight reflects off its jagged edges. "I'm your prisoner now. I get it. That means you can punish me into doing what you want. That's what it'll take for me to listen. Because I don't care what you have to say."

"No, I have to explain—"

"You had no right!" I shout. "No right to pretend to be on our side."

"I _am_ on your side! I know I did some awful things in the beginning, but then I joined the team and realized I was wrong about the Avatar and about your friends and especially about _you_. I was trying to help you in the catacombs—"

If the room could reflect my tortured disbelief, every inch of the floor would be screaming. "_Help_ me? By killing the world's only hope?"

"I saved Aang's life!"

Before I'm even aware of my actions, I lash out with the splinter and cut right through the fabric of his sleeve. He grabs his forearm. Chokes back a gasp. We both look at his fingers. Sticky, stained red.

"No more lies," I warn. My voice is dangerously soft.

"It's the truth—"

White-hot anger burns inside me. "I'm not interested in hearing anything else you have to say!"

His gaze moves to the glass shard. "Put that down."

"Get back!"

"Katara, please. I'm your friend." He tries taking the glass out of my hand by force with his own sleeve. I hold it tighter, filled with an overwhelming desire to hurt him for trying to pretend he's still on my side. We wrestle for the fragment. It cuts through his shirt and my shirt. We both drop the shard. Blood runs from our split palms.

"Friends don't hurt each other," I accuse.

He grabs both my wrists and pulls me so close. I flashback to a replica of this moment we shared as enemies long ago, back when a liar promised _I'll save you from the pirates. _"Listen!" he orders as I feel his hot blood on my wrist. "When I went to search for the Avatar, I read up on everything having to do with him. If he's killed in the Avatar State, the cycle is broken forever! My sister was going to shoot him with lightning. You saw that! I couldn't think of another way to stop him."

I twist my hand and wrench it out of his grasp. Then I backhand him across the face so hard it leaves an angry mark. Zuko lets go of my other wrist. With both hands free, I slam my palms into his chest. He loses his balance and falls.

"Weeks of thinking and that's the best excuse you could come up with?" I scream. I won't let myself believe it no matter how honest this might sound. Besides, even if he had good intentions, it doesn't change the fact of our imprisonment in the Fire Lord's evil clutches.

Zuko lies on the floor looking up at me. One bloody hand print stains his black armor where I pushed him. It's not enough. I want to break his face, shatter his hurt expression, make him feel a fragment of the real pain he's put me through these past many weeks.

"You don't know what it's like," I say. My whole body's shaking. "You don't care that I had to sit down in that ship for days waiting for imprisonment or death—"

"You think I don't care?" he says. He pushes to his feet and leaves a bloody hand print on the floor. He grabs my hand and now the blood from his cut palm is on my palm, too. "You don't know how I feel."

"Don't lie again—"

"Please, I'm trying to explain—"

"Zuko, just stop!" I shriek, backing off. "You don't get it. You can never get it! You, just standing there . . . you . . ."

I can't stand seeing his hurt eyes, which are begging for the kind of trust and understanding I will _never _give him again. If I can't smash his cruelly kind façade then I want to get out of here, to run and keep running and never look back. I run to the door and tug on the locked handles. I stare at the wooden frame because this is better than staring at those pleading golden eyes. I won't forgive him. I won't. I _won't._

"Let me out," I say.

"Not until you hear me out."

I turn around so we're staring each other down. "What? What else do you have left to say?"

Now that he's finally given the floor to speak, Zuko seems at a loss for words. This isn't entirely surprising. Words are never enough for some things; not enough for his swords at my throat, for my tears, for the _I loved you _I confessed in the crystal cave. He angles his head away from me as if the distant glowing candle could somehow advise him. Words work against him as he tries to explain: _Katara, I . . . okay, I've had a few weeks to think . . . all the little moments . . . you saved my life in the Serpent's Pass . . . that night at the restaurant . . . when Azula gave me that decision . . . I already knew . . . I think I've known for a while . . . _

"Zuko," I urge, fighting the urge to backhand him across the face again. The red mark I left on his cheek is still there.

He looks at me, suddenly. He blinks a few times. There are tears in his eyes, which is still so strange for a firebender. Water is in _my_ blood, in _my_ breath, in _my_ heart. He can tell me all the lies he wants. Fake all the tears he wants. I know, I'm certain, that his bending art holds only anger and hate, not the pulse of life as I slowly convinced myself it might. Still, I watch him fists his hands against his hair and run them down his face. A red streak of blood remains where his injured palm goes. Now it looks like his scar is bleeding. An old wound, reopened.

Another old wound is cut open again when he says three unexpected words.

"I love you."

It feels like he's just punched me in the mouth. I can't breathe. I can't blink. I stand frozen until I finally bring my hand up to support my face. My shoulders are shaking so hard. I step back, wanting nothing more than to get out of here. I want to close off my ears to his words, but in the measured trembling tension of his voice I realize it's even harder for him to speak than for me to listen. And so I let him talk, no matter how much it hurts to hear him to lie about this most sacred of things.

"I love you and I would die, _die_ rather than hurt you or the people you care for. Katara, _please_, believe me. I won't let my father or anyone else in this palace touch you or Aang."

His eyes are so wet now, and he's still lying with eyes like those . . .

"Someone very important once told me 'everything I've done, I've done to protect you.' Then that person gave up _everything_ for my sake. People do things you won't believe to save the people they love. And I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but I've tried to pass that legacy on to the people I care for in honor of the person I lost. In honor of my _mother_, Katara."

I feel a sharp pang. His mother. How could he lie about her?

"I did everything I could for you and Aang in the crystal cave, and I'm going to do everything I can here in the palace too. I don't know how, but I'll find a way to protect you."

Those last words. The ones my mother spoke in my feverish dream when she came to me with Aang's shawl . . .

And a blanket emblazoned with a black Fire Nation insignia.

Suddenly, I understand.

But before I can respond, there's an urgent knock on the door behind me. Zuko looks past me at the locked handles. I'm not entirely sure he's seeing them. "What is it?" he asks slowly. His voice seems to coming from a great distance.

"My apologies for the interruption, Crown Prince Zuko, but the Fire Lord sends an immediate summons," a servant calls through the door.

Zuko runs his still-bleeding hand over his face. I look at my own hurt palm and wish I could use my bending to heal myself . . . and I guess him, too. "Tell my father I'll be there soon," he says.

"The summons is not for you, Crown Prince. The Fire Lord requests to see your new servant."

The messanger's words slowly sink in. I'm not sure if I want to remain in this room with Zuko, but I _definitely _know I don't want to get myself into an alone situation with the Fire Lord. I step closer to Zuko as if this proximity could somehow keep me safe from his father.

"Fine," Zuko says loudly, aware of my unspoken request. "We'll both go."

"The Fire Lord clearly indicated he wished a private audience. No other parties may be present."

I'm shaking as if suddenly exposed to a cold wind. I look at Zuko. He looks at me. This momentary exchange of contact is enough for me to realize this may be a lucky interruption. I need time to think about what he's just said. The things he's confessed.

"I'm coming. Help me unlock the door," I ask Zuko. As an afterthought, I add: "Please."

I stand back as he does so and pushes the twin doors ajar. Quickly, before I can change my mind, I step past him into the hall. The messenger beckons. I follow. The last thing I see when I glance back is Zuko wrapping his bleeding hand in a length of fabric torn from his sleeve. Then we turn a corner and I'm alone with my escort. I borrow Zuko's idea and tear a small strip off my sleeve to bandage my hand. I'm sure I can get another outfit from Len tomorrow.

". . . I can't believe Father handed her over to my brother. Is old age rendering him senile? Zuko seemed too obviously desperate for her. There must be something going on."

This voice belongs to Azula, who enters our hall from an adjoining corridor along with Mai and Ty Lee. The chi-blocker spots me and the messenger. She tugs on Azula's sleeve. "Hey, look! There she is."

As we pass by, the messenger bows to the three girls with a quick _good evening, princess, ladies_ before hurrying on. Before I can follow, Azula steps in my way. "Where are you going?" she asks.

"To a private audience with the Fire Lord," the messenger helpfully supplies.

Not once in all the time I've been chased by the fire princess have I seen her shocked at anything. I'm secretly thrilled when her mouth actually drops open. Ty Lee gasps audibly, and even Mai looks unusually interested. The acrobat and knife-thrower stare at me.

Azula regains her icy composure instantly and glares at her friends to do likewise. "Why would Father want to speak to some peasant slave?"

Thankfully, the messenger intervenes on my behalf. "My apologies, princess, but the Fire Lord does not like to be kept waiting. Come along."

He drags me away, though not before I glance back at the three girls. They're watching me curiously. Azula's eyes narrow thoughtfully. She mouths _private meeting? _and then we've turned into another hall. At the far end is the curtain that ripples like living firelight.

"Go on," the messenger says, gesturing me inside. I steel myself for the encounter as I pass through the fabric and feel it gently flow over my face.

There is nothing gentle or welcoming about the throne room beyond. Great columns flank me on either side as I approach the wall of fire at the far end. That I don't actually see any guards in the dimmed room doesn't mean they aren't hidden in the shadows. The gold light of the fires fills my face and eyes. I stand tall. I will not kneel unless ordered.

The Fire Lord's face is all darkness beyond the bright fire. "So. You are a waterbending peasant who happens to be an ally of the Avatar."

This isn't a direct question and so I don't respond. Whatever small fragment of defiance I'm granted, I'll take it—even if I'm only pretending to myself I can stand up against this monster.

"You and your allies have caused my nation a great deal of trouble because you foolishly believed you could end this war. No one has successfully opposed the greatest of all four nations in a century. Now that your Avatar is subject to my will, no one ever shall. So tell me, peasant." The Fire Lord stands and steps through the wall of fire. Now the fire throws his familiar face into sharp relief. "What makes you think you can enter my presence without showing respect to the most powerful man in the world?"

The absolute calm of his voice chills me more efficiently than could any angry threats. His merciless gold eyes stare me down. I should look away. I should kneel down. But I won't, not until he actively orders me to do so. Let him think what he wants.

"Do you believe yourself to be my equal?" he asks as he walks around behind me. He still hasn't ordered me to kneel, and I don't.

"I'm your prisoner," I simply say.

"You are indeed." He completes a circle around me but doesn't pause. He continues to walk slow laps around me. "And for a prisoner aware of her inferior position, you are very vocal about your opinions. You despise me, don't you? You despise me and all people of my nation."

I'm starting to see what this private meeting is about. He's going to punish me for my outburst earlier about the airbenders, and he's going to do it here where no one can protect me.

"Except one," the Fire Lord adds. His voice comes to me from behind. "I believe you have particular fondness for my son."

I swallow, hard, and hope he doesn't notice. But of course his gaze is already on my throat. He smirks and stops directly in front of me.

"You are probably wondering why I have summoned you here. I have one question for you, waterbending peasant. Ally of the Avatar. Prisoner of the Fire Nation." His smirk widens so I'm seeing teeth. "That necklace is precious to you, isn't it?"

Before I can stop my instinctual response, my fingers are on the carved pendant. I step back and understand one thing: I am probably about to die. I know this because I will obey many orders, but if he asks me to hand over this necklace then I will simply not let him have it. If he tries to take it from me by force, I'll fight until he kills me.

"It's my betrothal necklace," I lie, counting on him not to know any Water Tribe customs. "It can't be taken off unless I'm breaking off the engagement."

He laughs like this, too, is some great joke. "Yes," he agrees as he continues to pace in a circle. "It is indeed a betrothal necklace. So you sleep in it? You spend your life collared to your husband? Such fine savage traditions."

The white-hot anger is back. I understand he's the Fire Lord. I understand he could order me dead. But this doesn't give him the right to say such things about my people.

"Yes, that is a betrothal necklace," he says suddenly, stopping again in front of me. "And it is indeed in your possession and on your neck. But tell me truthfully, peasant." His eyes meet mine, bright with some secret knowledge. "It was not carved for you, was it?"

What does that mean? That he thinks I'm too young to be betrothed?

"If that necklace is precious to you and you wish to keep it, you will answer one question with the absolute truth," he says. "Who did that necklace belong to?"

I press my lips together and glare at the floor. "My mother," I say. There's a real edge of anger in my tone because I had to speak that sacred word in the presence of the man indirectly responsible for her death. I bet he ordered the very mission that led to her murder.

The Fire Lord's voice comes from behind me. "Originally?"

"Originally, what?"

"Did your mother originally own that necklace?"

Suddenly I'm furious. My face is burning, and I can feel my heart hammering. "It's none of your business!" I yell before I can stop myself. I trap a breath in my lungs. Now I've done it! If I had a chance of making it out of this audience unscathed before, surely he won't excuse me now.

"Understand something," he says. His voice is colder, crueler than before as he once again steps in front of me. "_Everything _is my business. With your Avatar and your hope imprisoned and destroyed, one day soon the world will belong to me. And then you and your pathetic Water Tribes will kneel at my feet in pieces if you will not bow of your own will. Until that day, pretend you have your power." He turns away and strides back through the fire. "You are dismissed."

This isn't an instruction I need to be given twice. I bolt out of the throne room through the curtain, not stopping to breathe until I'm safely on the other side. Only now do I realize I'd been digging my fingernails into my palms the whole time and my bandaged hand throbs with pain. I'd been expecting the worst. It's not just anyone who can say they've faced the Fire Lord twice and lived to tell the tale.

But why so much interest in that necklace?

This question and the amazing fact of my survival leaves me thoughtful as the messenger escorts me back to Zuko's room and leaves me at the door. Once there, I lay my palms flat against the wooden panels but don't go inside yet. I haven't actually decided how I feel about what Zuko's said. I don't think I'm ready to decide, not now when I'm feeling more confused than ever. I guess I'll just have to keep my distance until I've come to some conclusion.

For now, I quietly slip inside because it's late and I'm so tired.

He's already curled up on the bed, tucked beneath a blanket. He doesn't obviously move when I come in, presumably because he thinks I'll believe he's asleep. But my keen eye detects his sudden sharp inhale. Of _course_ he's asleep. As if.

Zuko's lying on his side at the edge of the wide bed. He probably thinks I'll accept the peace offering and climb in on the other side. I grab an unused pillow and blanket and toss both on the floor. I'll make my own bed. I don't need his help until I've decided if I'll accept what he's told me as truth . . . and not until I've sorted out my own feelings.

The floor is hard, but it's not any worse than my cage from the ship. Plus there's the warm blanket, a significant improvement. Which reminds me. I sit up and unfold Aang's shawl from my wrappings, then squeeze my head through the opening. I tuck the loose edges of the shawl beneath my servant outfit. There. Now the orange cloth might easily pass for my normal clothes, and a small piece of my airbending friend will always be with me. Tomorrow, I have to start coming up with a way to break us both out of here. Tonight, I close my eyes beneath the blanket and try to get to sleep.

I hear quiet footsteps about half an hour later. Then I feel one arm under the crook of my legs while another supports my back. Zuko is so gentle as he transfers me to the bed. He must think I'm asleep. I debate struggling but decide it'll be easier to keep pretending than start an argument this late at night. Besides, secretly, I don't mind that he tucks me in. I can pretend otherwise all I want, but I feel safe with him. Good and safe, no matter how much I hate that truth. I drift off to sleep quickly, my mind filled with so much uncertainty.

My dream that night is brief and unpleasant. It begins when I'm out of breath like I've just been running a great distance. I have time to realize, momentarily, that I'm somewhere in the palace before a blue glow passes across the floor, walls, over my clothes and skin. The Fire Lord is ten feet behind me. He's not in formal robes but in some simple brown and red outfit. His hair is unrestrained by a headpiece. It hangs loose and wild around his face, looking greasy and unkempt. He's looking right at me. His arms are halfway through sweeping arcs, and his hands channeling two tendrils of blue light humming on outstretched fingertips. His smirk is the fat grin of a hunter who has been tracking his prey for hours and finally found it backed into a corner with no way to escape. And his hands are still moving, coming down and extending outward. Lightning reflects in his eyes, in my eyes, and if his aim holds true—

I lurch upright in bed, gasping. My hands fist against sweat-dampened sheets. Heart, still beating. Chest, rising and falling with every cycle of breathing. I'm alive. Still alive.

But what if my visions hold more than metaphor, but warning?

Suddenly the room feels like a prison cell. Even though I'm technically no longer caged, I feel more trapped and suffocated here than on the ship. I have to go somewhere. Get up, start walking, at least lap circles around the bed. There's a closet offshoot from Zuko's room. I slip through the door into the comfortable enclosure of formal clothes and shoes. On the far end of the closet is one lone window. I press my face to the glass because I need to see the moon. Tonight, it's a thin curled leaf floating in the black sky.

I try to think about the night and its beauty instead of the fear that brought me here in the first place, but lightning the color of ice keeps slipping into mind. The Fire Lord's cold-blooded fire is nothing more than a bending manifestation of one of the earth's most dangerous forces. True lightning eludes understanding. We craft myths as a way to pretend we have knowledge about it, like this one: lightning never strikes the same place twice. Yet anyone who is drawn to storms knows this is false. Lightning can strike twice.

Once in dreams.

Once in life.

I sit down, scoot back against the wall beneath the window, and tuck my chin against my knees. The night-chilled floor is so cold against my toes. I look at my trembling hands and my skin stained with darkness. Then I bury my face in my hands. Hot tears run between my fingers. All I want is to go home to my family. I want to get Aang and get out of here, and never once look back. Right now, I need a simple thing: one hug. I wish someone would hold me and say, lie or not, that things are going to turn out okay. I need to hear those words.

I don't hear him approach, nor do I realize he's sitting beside me until he lays his warm hand along the back of my cold one. His fingers lace with mine and squeeze tight. Then he simply sits beside me, waiting patiently for me to explain what's wrong. Trusting that I will. Perhaps wondering if maybe the ember of love I felt for him still burns, or hoping that it might be rekindled after all this time.

I don't know if I've forgiven him yet. I don't know if we're even friends, let alone anything more. Right now, I don't know if that matters. I could leave this moment to words, but instead I lay my hand on top of his so our fingers form a dark-light-dark sandwich of comfort. What speech is richer that the language of human touch? I hold his hand so gently and don't let myself speak. His bandaged hand touches mine where we cut each other with glass. His free arm wraps around my shoulder so I'm safe in his embrace. We sit unmoving in the darkness for a while, feeling each other's warmth. No words. No promises. Just the night and the moonlight and us in this moment of temporary truce. Whether it will last I've yet to decide, but tonight all that matters is this: Zuko holds on to me, and I hold on to him.

And I hold on to that.

_A/N: I hope that closing moment between Zuko and Katara was at least somewhat satisfying (I tried really, really hard to make it good!). Meanwhile, I'd like to extra thank those of you who have recommended this story on Tumblr. I can't express how my heart sings when I'm scrolling through the Zutara tag and suddenly there's mention of this work._ _Lastly, Korrasylum {.} elementfx {.} com will be accepting nominations for your favorite Zutara stories from January 4 through January 15. There are many incredible pieces out there deserving of your nominations, so I'm giving a shout-out here so you guys are aware of the event and can honor those amazing authors. Have a wonderful New Year, and may the coming months be as warm and safe for you as Zuko just made Katara feel. Since this is my final update for 2012, please review? I'd love to know what you think about the dreams (visions of the past, the future, or just metaphors?). _

_Edit: I just posted the first companion story to this saga ("At the Heart of All Things"). Please feel free to go check it out and let me know what you think!_


	36. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 5

_A/N: This chapter is lovingly dedicated to the fabulous __**beanaroony**__, a talented artist whose work makes me melt from its sheer beauty and intensity. If you haven't checked out her tumblr or deviantART, you're missing out. Also, if you haven't checked my profile page in the past few days, you might not have noticed that I published the first companion story to this saga ("At the Heart of All Things"). Now, although it's not technically mandatory for you to read it, the symbolism of the turtle ducks in this chapter won't be nearly as strong and significant as it ought to be if you haven't read it. So before you begin this chapter, __**I very highly recommend **__you spend ten minutes of time looking over that little piece. Then you may return and continue on. _

I fall asleep against Zuko's chest with the pressure of his arm around my shoulders. I wake to a white cloud misting from my mouth. It's my own breath hitting air that is so cold and so still. When I sit up, I see I'm back in the very white place from the dream where I once held a five-pronged headpiece. The Fire Lord's headpiece, I now understand. The one that made me think it strange that a piece of metal could stay warm despite the freezing temperature.

Iroh is in this dream, too. He's dressed in the indigo uniform bearing the image of a white lotus flower. This time he looks younger than the man I knew in life. His hair is richly brown, and that on his face is neatly trimmed. There are no natural wrinkles in his face, only temporary ones etched by his wide smile.

_So, _he says as he kneels beside me. _Would you like to learn? _

_Learn . . . ?_

His arm sweeps outward in a wide gesture. _How to befriend wild turtle ducks? _

I'm about to ask exactly which turtle ducks he's talking about since there aren't any animals or even water or anything at all around us, but Iroh touches a finger to his lips. A universal gesture of _shh_. Then he lays his hand on the ground and closes his eyes. A thin thread, red as fate, unravels from his downturned palm. It sketches the circumference of a wide ring that fills with translucent blue water. Two shapes swim into view as if shaded in by a spirit's hand. Twin fish sketched in ink. One white with a single black spot. One black with a single white spot. Two counterparts circling each other in an eternal dance of push and pull.

_Tui and La_, I whisper, recognizing the fish from the Spirit Oasis. I close my eyes. Oh, Yue.

_Your Water Tribe spirits of the ocean and the moon are very powerful_, Iroh agrees. _But sometimes, one nation alone is not enough to restore peace in a war against the world. Wait, and give all things time to change into something unexpected._

As the fish swim around one another, the red ring begins to bleed into the pool of blue water. Each clean black canvas on the fishes' bodies absorbs red stain, and every remaining white scale takes on a deeper blue as if soaking in the shade of the sea. The fish are still circling counterparts, still locked in a perpetual cycle of push and pull, only now theirs is a dance of fire and ice. One red with a single blue spot. One blue with a single red spot.

_You may win a war with only one or two or three nations fighting for the Avatar, but the scales must be perfectly balanced in order for the world to return to true harmony. _

_We need all four nations on our side. I get it. Good thing Zuko's with us._

_Do you know what it is that makes opposing forces so powerful? _Iroh says as if I hadn't spoken. When I shake my head, he adds, _To understand a man for what he truly is, you must expose yourself both to the darkness of his fear and to the brightness of his courage. You must know him as an enemy and as a friend. Only then can you know him whole. _

These words are so familiar. I remember thinking something exactly along these lines when I was mulling over my growing attachment to Zuko, a boy I once hated but eventually came to love.

_Turn your hand up and hold it open. I will give you bread. _

He places a few small pieces of soft bread into the cusp of my palm. _What do I do with this? _I ask.

Iroh points.I glance across the water. Standing perfectly still on the opposite shore, watching me with its eyes like two black windows, is a tiny baby duckling.

_Animals are very special blessings to this earth_, he explains. _Unlike people, they see with eyes unclouded by hate. _He touches my wrist with his own. Our gazes connect. _And to restore peace to the world, you must look beyond hate to the truth at the heart of all things. _

I think Iroh's about to say more, but suddenly there is a blinding light. I wake up blinking in bright sunlight. I grope around for anything to block out the glare and grab the thick folds of a blanket to pull over my face.

"Zuko, I'll be up in a few minutes . . ." I mumble.

"Sorry, your little lover boy's not around. He's already been dragged through two different meetings while you've been snoring back in his bed."

The voice belongs to Len, and she's the one responsible for dragging the covers off my head again and exposing me to morning light streaming in through the windows. She parted the curtains that were pulled over them last night. Now she stares at me with her arms crossed and her foot tapping. I'm somewhat embarrassed that she found me in Zuko's bed when this is certainly not where I went to sleep. But I guess he must have carried me here again once I fell asleep against his shoulder. I remember both that and how I felt so safe beside him.

"Morning," I groan.

"Do you always have to be dragged awake? Around here, we rise with the sun if you want to be in time for breakfast." She points to a tray on the nightstand. "Yesterday was tough, so I swiped you some and saved it. But tomorrow you're getting up at dawn with the rest of us. No more sleeping in. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I say between bites of some doughy lump stuffed with fruity jam.

"I need to make this bed." She grabs me by the wrist and tugs so I climb off. "And Len's just fine by me. Want a fun day? Try calling Azula _ma'am _instead of _princess _and see what happens."

Vigorous nodding substitutes for words I can't squeeze out around more of that dough-with-jam pastry stuffed in my mouth. Len smoothes out the covers and fluffs the pillows that were, moments before, molded into my and Zuko's shapes. If she's been around the palace for years, she must know so many secrets about the royal family. Like apparently what happens when someone acts less-than-groveling at Azula's feet. Helpful things she might be willing to confess if we become closer friends.

"Leave your bowl out on the nightstand when you're done," she says. "My girls will come by later to clean this place up. They'll grab it. Right now you're coming with me on a tour of the palace. Memorize stuff quick. You'll be sent on errands soon and need a mental map."

Getting a mental map of a place this intricate isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world. There are so many halls and rooms linking up with each other that I know I'm bound to get lost. Plus I keep getting distracted by the history Len throws in as she shows me around. Apparently the original throne room was far smaller than the current one, and there was no wall of fire that separated the Fire Lord from the rest of the room. The current room was rebuilt after Avatar Roku destroyed the original one after a vicious argument between him and Fire Lord Sozin.

"Let's see . . . there's also an Agni Kai chamber with an indoor arena. It's got seating for large audiences. It's used to settle disputes in the palace," she explains. She leads me into a hallway containing large portraits of men along one wall. "And this is the Royal Gallery. It shows off all the past Fire Lords like Ozai, Azulon, Sozin"—she points to the corresponding image on the wall—"and their ancestors." One day, Zuko's portrait will hang on this very wall as well.

We swing back around towards the throne room. "Hang on," she tells me. Len waves at two guards keeping watch by the curtain. They greet her with respectful dips of the head. She quietly whispers something I can't make out, but her smirk broadens at their equally hushed responses. As she walks back past me, she beckons with a hand. "Come on. I can show you my favorite part of the palace grounds."

"Where's that?" I ask.

"You'll see in a minute." She leads me to an archway beyond which I smell fresh air and a current of wind on my face. "We better be quick while the war meeting's still on. It's technically forbidden for anyone to come here except for the royal family and a handful of servants on official business, but we can sneak a peek. No one will know. Come on!"

With that she goes down the steps, and I follow her out to a small fragment of peace harbored in the heart of a palace otherwise blackened by fear and war and hate. It's a garden filled with fountains and ponds, trees and small shrubs. I can imagine sitting in the soft shade of one of those trees and enjoying a scroll as the late afternoon stretches toward evening.

Len grins. "Pretty nice place, huh?"

It's a place I could get used to. I'm especially drawn to one huge tree situated close to a large pond at the heart of the garden. I rest a hand on the ancient bark. This tree has probably seen as many royal families as history remembers. It reminds me of the tree Zuko almost killed out of his anger in Ba Sing Se when he severed the connection between roots and life-giving leaves with his swords. Thanks to my waterbending, I was able to save the girdled tree while there was still time to heal the damage done.

There's a quack close by. I notice a very small animal sitting out on the water. A turtle duck. Its eyes are two familiar black windows gazing right back at me . . .

All of a sudden, Len grabs my wrist. Her fingernails dig into my skin. She drags me behind the wide tree trunk and hisses _don't move. _Then she carefully pretends to smooth out the sash around her waist as she moves quickly back towards the entry stairs.

"Fire Lord," she says loudly. For all her bravado, I guess she won't call him just plain _Ozai_ to his face—

Oh.

_Oh._

"Len." A beat. "Has something urgent happened?"

"No, not at all," she says, and I thank the spirits for the absolute calm and restraint in her voice. It reveals nothing of the secret she's hiding: me, trespassing. Their voices grow softer and more distant. She's probably leading him away from the tree and out of the garden. Thank the spirits for Len watching out for me. I only hope the Fire Lord can't hear the pounding of my heart.

"Yes, inform them I will be slightly late," I hear him say.

A pause. "But the meeting starts in a few minutes—"

"They will _wait._ I will return to the palace shortly."

I stare into the foliage of a nearby bush and try to keep panic from setting in. Too late. I have to get out of here, but I literally can't move anywhere from this spot without being seen. What's the punishment for forbidden entry into the royal garden?

I listen hard for Len's voice. After a moment of silence, I hear her say _yes, Fire Lord_. There comes the very faint sound of shoes on stone steps. This is presumably Len leaving me alone with nothing but a tree between me and the man who will kill me, without hesitation, if he catches me hiding here.

I can either keep standing or sit down and huddle as close to the tree as possible. On one hand, the first option means I can start running immediately in case he spots me. But what about the blue lightning from my dreams? I can't outrun that. So instead I sit down and gather my knees close to my chin. The only thing to do now is squeeze myself into the tightest bundle possible and try to take up no space at all. Maybe the spirits will take pity and cloak me from his sight.

From this angle, I have no way of knowing where the Fire Lord is in the garden. For all I know, he might be coming this way right now. I edge slightly to the right. There's a shape by the edge of the pond. I scoot sideways another few inches and lean to see. It's the Fire Lord in his formal robes. He's kneeling with his back turned to me and his face toward the water.

What's he doing out here? I press as close to the tree as I can, but I don't look away. He dips one finger in the water and then holds out his hand. Across the pond, a mother turtle duck and her babies look up. One of the ducklings swims toward him, a small yellow creature with a green shell on its back. I bristle. It's just a little baby. Silly. Defenseless. How can it know the kind of danger it's getting itself into? I look around for something to throw and find a little rock. I have to warn the duckling away before the Fire Lord does something like burn it alive. What else would he do with something so innocent? Without thinking, I flick the rock into the space between his hand and the swimming animal. The rock hits the water with a ripple but no sound. Waves move out and whisper across the pond.

I look at the place where the stone punctured the water. Strange and wonderful, how something so small as one tiny pebble can sweep the still surface of a pond into motion. Change one thing, you change everything. The slightest ripple of change can grow into a force great enough to move the whole world.

But it's not enough to disturb either the duckling or the Fire Lord, both of whom probably assumed it was just some fish flipping its tail beneath the surface. The baby plucks a tiny morsel of what I guess must be bread from his palm. A few more ducklings approach and accept the offering, too. The Fire Lord lowers his hand into the water and scoops up a baby. Their mother swims closer. She watches carefully but doesn't nip his hand.

The Fire Lord holds a baby duckling, and its mother holds him in her gaze, and I hold all of this in the strangest regard. How a black-hearted creature such as this could find affection for small animals but not for the small children killed by his war. How he could order men to murder my mother but himself won't hurt the mother of the ducklings in his pond. Is there a worst monster on this earth than one who pities animals and not air nomads? Who apparently holds animals as sacred beings but not human lives? My splinter of hate for this demon deepens its twisted drive into my heart. He deserves nothing but death. I hope I'm there on the day when Aang takes his life and ends the brutal war that has taken so much away from everyone involved. I doubt there is even one life left unscathed by its reach.

Suddenly he sets the duckling down. His fingers crush into a fist. He looks up sharply. His mouth tightens into an angry grimace. I pull back, trembling, certain he's seen me—

"What is it?" he snaps, and only then do I hear the sound of running footsteps.

"With all due respect, the council awaits your arrival at the war meeting."

"Did Len not tell them I would be late? What makes them believe they can disturb me when I directly ordered otherwise."

"Fire Lord." The messenger's voice is higher in pitch. Frightened. "I-I apologize for the interruption, but the generals—"

"Oh, very well. Inform them that I'm on my way."

"Y-yes, of course!" There is the sound of feet hitting the ground very quickly. Silence falls over the garden once more. I sit shaking against the tree, hoping the Fire Lord won't glance this way as he passes by. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my nose in the small gap between my shivering knees. Please. _Please_.

I don't move or look up from my hiding place for a few minutes. Then I hear the sound of swiftly approaching feet. If I weren't chi-blocked, I'd reach for water. But I don't feel control over my own element, don't feel anything except an overwhelming need to get up and run while I still have a chance. But his lightning. Would he kill me? Of course he would, given any reason at all. That's what heartless men do. They destroy the world and everything they touch.

"Hey, kid? You back there?"

Before I stop myself, before I can even think, I call out Len's name. She runs around the tree and squats down next to me. I lunge forward and wrap my arms around her waist. I hide my face in the collar of her shirt. Safe. She's not going to let the Fire Lord hurt me.

"Did that messenger I sent show up?" she asks. When I nod, she pumps the air with her fist. "Yes! We pulled it off. See, you got to check out the garden and no one got in trouble. Come on. Let's get out of here."

I don't think I've ever survived a closer brush with death. I'm glad to escape back into the shelter of the palace halls. Strange how safety is so relevant. Up until I ended up trapped behind that tree, I despised the royal palace as a place of terrible danger. Now, that very palace is a place where I can't be hurt as long as I'm doing my duty. There's something freeing about that. Who knew I would ever be glad to walk down these halls and feel almost relaxed? Sometimes you think about life and, looking back, just can't believe how things change.

"While you were out there, Lover Boy sent you a message."

It occurs to me that she means Zuko. "Wait, he's not my—"

"He wants to see you after the war meeting's over. Meantime we can get some lunch and meet up with Ty Lee. I'll send for her."

We get our next meal in the servant's wing, a long hall with branching doors. One of the doors leads to a room where food is arranged on carts. Servants serve themselves and sit around on pillows scattered along the wall to chat and swap gossip. Len and I eat together. She spends most of the time chattering with some female servants while I debate whether I ought to ask her about the palace prisons. Would she take me to see Aang? Or would this cross our fragile line of friendship? I have to find _some _way to go see my friend soon.

"Good morning, everyone!" This is Ty Lee skipping into the room. She waggles her fingers at the servants, many of whom wave back or bow their heads in acknowledgement.

"We're over here!" Len calls.

I close my eyes and let the acrobat's fingers prod a series of precise points that ensure my bending remains beyond access.

"How are you liking palace life so far?" Ty Lee asks when she finishes. I shrug, but she's already paying more attention to a pile of dumplings on a nearby cart. She grabs two at once and takes turns munching large bites off one and then the other.

"Waterbenders rise with the moon. She'll have a tough time getting up early," Len answers for me. Stuffing words in my mouth seems to be a common trend with her.

Ty Lee carefully chews a bite of dumpling. "It's too bad I have to keep blocking your chi all the time. I wish I could just guilt you really badly."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"There's a thing called chakras that control bending. I had to learn all about it when I was figuring out how to block chi," she explains. "See with waterbending, it gets blocked by guilt. I bet if you feel guilty all the time and feel it really, really deeply, you won't be able to waterbend at all. Even without chi blocking."

"That theory's never been proven," Len reminds her.

"Doesn't mean it won't ever," Ty Lee says with a grin. "And meanwhile, we have good regular chi blocking that'll just have to do." She finished off her dumplings. "Anyway, I'll see you guys around soon. Azula needed to see me, too." She grabs three more pastries off the cart and goes off.

Emotions permanently blocking bending? That seems ridiculous. Then again, Ty Lee seems like a fairly strange person. The kinds of theories she comes up with would probably make a normal person's head spin. You can't pay attention to every crazy thing you hear.

When we're done with lunch, Len takes me through a door leading to a vast courtyard open to the sky. I take inventory of the water grates running around the perimeter. Not that they're of much use to me now, but maybe some day they might come in handy. But what I notice next is a burst of fire out of the corner of my eye. Zuko has just punched a blast of fire down at the courtyard floor. He kicks and flames follow the arc of his foot. Sweat glints off his body, which is naked from the waist up. He's wearing nothing but a loose pair of paints that cuts off just below the knee.

"Hey, take a break!" Len calls. "I brought your pal." She nudges me gently so I go down the steps to where he's practicing his bending. "You guys have fun. I'll see you in a while."

I hear her fading footsteps returning to the palace as Zuko stiffens. He looks up. He looks at _me_, and I realize we've acted through this kind of scene before. I remember being conscious of the way his shoulders tensed as he threw off his blanket and got up to greet me after he lay unconscious for three days in Ba Sing Se. I remember working on lines I wanted to tell him when at last he was awake, and of course me not recalling a single one when I needed them most.

He says the same one word now that he did then: "Katara."

"How'd you sleep?" he adds.

I finish going down the steps very slowly. "Not bad," I admit. "Thanks for bringing me back to the bed. That was . . . nice."

He falls into step beside me. "Listen, Katara, I'm so sorry for everything—"

"It's okay. I get it now." Wait, did my mouth say that?

"So . . . you really believe me?" he asks. I don't need waterbending to sense that his eyes are threatening to become liquid.

Do I? Last night, I wasn't entirely sure what my emotions were telling me at all. I wasn't even sure if I could believe his words. But now I look into Zuko's face and see truth written across his worried gaze. We cross the courtyard together to the far side where he was training, and I feel something begin again that I was afraid I'd lost.

A familiar prickle of, well, _fire_ ignites in my chest. It's that lone ember glowing hotter every time I see Zuko now. No. That's not entirely true. It's more than a single ember dancing in a cradle of former hatred. It's a collection of sparks gathered across our many weeks of friendship. Now they're permanently melting away the ice I tried to build around my heart. I tried to freeze the love I felt for this firebender after he betrayed us in the catacombs, but now I understand why his eyes looked so hurt when I accused him of killing the world. He wasn't lying. I don't think he betrayed us at all. His eyes tell me he meant what he confessed last night. He did what he had to in order to save the world, to save Aang, to save _me_.

And for this boy who protected the world's last hope for peace, my heart is beginning to again catch fire.

I nod. "I think I can believe you. And . . . I'm ready to forgive you. For everything."

Before I can say anything more, I hear cruel, mocking laughter from somewhere close by. The Fire Lord is descending down the steps to the courtyard like a curtain of black fire. His mouth is a smirk showing teeth. "Prince Zuko," he says. "I have been informed that you've been practicing your bending again. Perhaps you would like to show me what you have learned on your journey across the world."

The whole bare-torso-loose-pants thing must be some kind of training uniform in the Fire Nation because the Fire Lord has changed into it as well. The only additional clothing he wears is two tight gold bands, one worn high around each bicep. He crosses his arms and stares at Zuko staring at him. He doesn't look at me at all.

"Demonstrate your fine talents at lightning generation," he instructs. As usual, there is cold laughter in the tone of his voice. I hear it clearly. I'm certain I do.

I would squeeze Zuko's hand to give him encouragement, but I'm too scared of the Fire Lord's wrath to do anything but back away slowly so I'm watching from a safe distance. My friend's right hand trembles as he lifts it up and closes his eyes to focus on the energy that should be moving through his body. He circles his arms carefully and begins to extend his right hand out—

"No!" the Fire Lord snarls. "Where did you pick up that technique? You will never generate lightning with that stance. It will only ricochet back in an explosive blast." Zuko bows his head and squeezes his eyes shut. My own breathing quickens as his father paces a ring around him. I'm scared for what he might do if he's disappointed. "When you rule this nation one day, at any moment you may be challenged for the throne," he goes on. "To defend your position, you must be the most powerful firebender in the world. Begin again. Proceed slowly."

Zuko extends his right hand. The Fire Lord nudges his arm higher. My friend begins to move his arm in a circle—

"Widen the swing of your arm," his father snaps impatiently. "And start over."

Zuko holds up his right hand again. He brings it down, across, and back up in a broader sweep. The Fire Lord watches without comment, his mouth a displeased grimace.

"You are forgetting your second arm," he says at last. "You need both to generate lightning. Observe."

The Fire Lord leans back as blue coils of energy spring into his hands. Raw threads of cold-blooded fire follow his fingertips in two wide arcs. He steps forward as he brings both hands down at once. Then he gathers the energy close to his chest and lunges, bringing both hands together. A blast of white-hot lightning rips across the courtyard, exploding in a burst of fire at the base of the steps leading back up to the palace.

"Hey! Will you watch it? You could kill someone like that! Geez," Len calls from the top of the stairs. She comes down and waves to me. "Sorry, kid, but you're coming with me. You got a summons."

"From whom?" I ask.

"I'll explain on the way."

Zuko and I exchange glances. I mouth _good luck_ and head out of the courtyard after Len, leaving my friend alone to practice lightning with his cold-blooded father. I only hope Zuko's still alive and in one piece when it's all over. Not that my presence would have helped matters anyway except in emotional support. I guess that's still something.

Len brings me to a great double door that seems familiar. "Zuko's room?" I ask, entirely confused.

"Azula's room," she explains. "The princess wanted to see you."

"Her private room?" I'm really not liking the idea of seeing Azula alone. For some reason, that seems even more dangerous than just me and the Fire Lord.

Len rests a hand on my shoulder. "I'll hang around. Don't worry." But something about her suddenly quiet voice makes me feel like maybe worrying is the exact thing I ought to be doing.

"You don't know why she wants to see me, do you?"

She shakes her head. "She just said she wants to see you alone. Here, I'll knock."

Len does so and announces our arrival. From behind the twin doors, I hear a soft _come in_ that sounds like Azula's usual voice. Precise. Deadly. Len tugs the doors open, but unlike with Zuko's room she doesn't shove me inside this time. I stand there for a moment without moving, simply drawing breath, wondering what Azula might want.

Then I close my eyes and step through into the absolute pitch darkness beyond.

_A/N: Well, folks, that's a wrap so far as regular winter break updates are concerned (and I moved a few things around, so we'll get that Katara/Mai conversation I promised on tumblr in the next chapter). You might get two or three chapters from now until** early May 2013**, but for the most part **I'll see you back here in the summer** for more Katara, more Zuko, more Ozai, and a plot that will only get even more intricate as time goes on. All credit for the phrase "eyes unclouded by hate" goes to Hayao Miyazaki for creating the four words that define the single most important underlying theme of this entire nine-part saga. Also, some of you may already be aware of this, but I just got a tumblr account:** {ladyavatar} . {tumblr} . {com}**. I primarily reblog things related to Miyazaki films (like Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, and Princess Mononoke), Disney, A:TLA, and LoK. Ah, and of course I post teasers for upcoming chapters of this story as well as my other fanfictions. Asks and submissions are always welcome. See you there!_


	37. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 6

_A/N: Okay guys, I'm just going to be straight with you: this semester has been insane in terms of writing my honors thesis, and with all the medical literature I've been reading I'm worried I've forgotten how to write this fic properly. I'm going to slowly get back into it, but if you feel like I'm writing my own story oddly, please feel free to call me out on it. However, hopefully this chapter will be good because it was beta-read by the fabulous, incredible, unbelievably kind force of a human life known as songofhopeandhonor on tumblr. If you don't already follow her, go do so now!_

Once I'm inside Azula's room and the door behind me closes, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness pulled softly around my shoulders. The princess is sitting on the very edge of her bed. She's rolling something small in the upturned cusp of her palm. Before I can quite make out the object, she slips it into a pocket and folds her hands neatly on her lap. My own hands are cool, damp, wanting nothing more than to fidget. I force them into stillness by my sides.

"You wanted to see me," I say, letting no inflection slip into my voice that might betray fear.

Azula stands and walks over to a bedside table. She lights a candle that fills the room with soft, flickering light. "No need to be so formal. Lighten up," she says.

I stand straighter, taller. My heartbeat pounds with such force that I can hear it in my ears. I'm afraid to speak now because I know there's a lash of hate on the tip of my tongue, but my wiser side warns me that right now she has all the advantage. Better to just deal with whatever she wants and get out of here.

"How have you been enjoying your life at the palace?"

If only I could sit somewhere and stick my hands under my thighs. I fold and unfold them, my two hands that want nothing more than to punch her across the face. How does she think I'm _enjoying _imprisonment?

Azula turns her eyes on me, narrowed and filled with copper fire. "Nervous? You shouldn't be. I'd only like to ask you one question."

She crosses the room with precise, unhurried steps and pauses right before me. Her eyes are veiled in shadow so I can no longer make them out. I shift my position to better see their calculating glint. I nod to prompt her, still not daring to speak.

"Father asked to see you alone," she says. "What did he want with you?"

Hmm? Oh, she must mean when Ozai circled me in the throne room and asked about my mother's necklace. "I don't know," I admit. It's the truth.

"Did he ask you questions? Tell you anything?" Azula circles me slowly, just like her father in his royal hall. The lure of entrapping a person within a ring of pacing must run in the family. I watch the candlelight slide across the polished floor of her room. "Well?" she insists, a shard of impatience edging into her voice.

Azula is my enemy; there is no way around this fact. To heighten her rage by withholding useless information would be foolish. "He asked about this necklace." I touch the pendant. "He wanted to know where it came from."

"That's all?" she asks softly.

I shrug. "Sorry if that's disappointing."

She pauses in front of me and stands quite still, looking directly at my eyes. "I see," she says, smiling because of course she doesn't believe me. "I just thought it would be something more interesting since you're the first prisoner he's asked to see alone in years."

"Servant," I remind her, though somehow I suspect that might be even rarer.

"Did you know that he dismissed all guards while you two were speaking? Father seemed to really want a private chat."

Azula carefully studies my face as she says this, probably hoping for some instinctual reaction that might betray my lies. If my face shows anything, it's surprise. Sure, I don't exactly have my bending thanks to Ty Lee and so I'm not much in the way of a threat, but why chase out all of the guards?

"Great questions. I'd love the answers, too." It's as close to backtalk as I dare come.

Azula is still watching me but now with her head tilted slightly to one side. She smiles widely as if relishing the disgust I feel in her presence. "Well, if that's really all, then I suppose there's no reason to keep you. You may go."

I turn around, planning to leave without a word. My hands are on the wooden panels, ready to push the doors open and break into a run, when I hear her add: "Actually, there is _one _more thing."

I glance back. Her teeth are bared in a half-smirk. Exposed canines glisten on one side of her mouth. I guess she's finally decided to let me in on the real reason she called me.

"Do you miss him?" she asks.

"Who?"

"Your precious Avatar. Your precious Aang."

So there it is. There it all is, and this time I can't keep my eyes from betraying sudden terror. Just because they can't kill Aang doesn't mean he's not under torment. I imagine a scenario in which he's pinned against a floor on a bed of tiny needles, each pin pressing just hard enough to open red drops across his entire body. Such torture would promise not death but infinite pain if Aang so much as breathed too deeply. And there are even worse things they could do in the black dungeons of this palace.

"What did you _do_?" I accuse, my voice so low I can't believe it's coming from my throat.

"Please, Katara. Why do you assume anything's wrong? I'd like to make you a kind offer." She closes the distance between us with a few quick steps. "Would you like to see your friend?"

If Azula has ever had a kind moment, I've never been around to witness it. "Yeah, sure. As if it's that simple," I snap. "What do I have to do first? What's the catch?"

She innocently holds up her open palms. "No catch. I'm offering to escort you to the prison to tell your friend _hello_. If you're not interested, go." She gestures towards the door. "No one's keeping you."

My hands tremble. I wait.

"But if you want to see him, follow me." She walks past me and out the door. I follow, as of course she knows I would.

Azula takes me to the prisons where she waves to the guards at the entrance. They bow and part like water, letting us pass. I follow her down a row of mostly empty prison cells until she gestures toward a black door on the far wall. Of course the Avatar has a special holding chamber. Two more guards keeping watch at the door salute our approach.

"The Avatar has a visitor," she tells them.

One guard steps aside while the other tugs the door open and bows, a gesture of welcome. Beyond the doorway is nothing but darkness, no doubt a component of Aang's torture. Yes, there are blind people like Toph who are used to life in absolute darkness. For them, absence of light is the norm; they have never known color, a glimpse of sunlight even through closed eyelids. But throw the average human into silence, shadows, solitude for too long and he will go insane. Once you have known light it becomes like air, essential. You don't know how much you need a thing until you lose it.

"Well? Go in," Azula says, pointing me through the black gateway.

I step into the shadow of the prison chamber; the only illumination here comes from flickering torch light outside the cell where Azula and the two guards wait. They leave the door opened a crack. It's enough light only to see my own feet and the outline of silver prison bars along the center of the room. Beyond those bars, it's impossible to make out anything in the shadows.

I fist a hand against my mother's betrothal pendant as I take a few more steps, each one bringing me miles away from the Fire Nation and into a temporary safe haven where there is only my friend and myself and the firelight for company.

"Aang?" I whisper as I kneel before the bars.

As my eyes slowly adjust to the dim lightning, I notice the slumped online of a body along the far wall. The body does not belong to an Avatar. It does not belong to a hero of war. It belongs to a very small child whose body has curved in around unendurable suffering, a boy unable to respond even to my desperate begging.

"Aang!" I call, throwing myself against the bars like a bird against its cage. I reach for him, but he's too far to touch. "_Aang!_"

Behind me, Azula has to say _he's unconscious _several times before I hear her. "Don't worry, he's very much alive," she assures me. "Just drugged so he's not a danger and in _such _a sad state, I'll admit. A shame he can't be released."

The shadows around me are thicker than I expected, so thick they coat the inside of my lungs and make drawing breath a struggle. Punching Azula doesn't seem like enough anymore. It's not enough to want to throw things, either. I stand up and turn around to stare into the relentless calm of her smiling face. I want to grab her hair and shatter her calm, crumble her down like she has chipped fragments off my endurance, make her feel the agony inside me. But I will not cry. I will not cry. I echo this like a mantra because otherwise I will do more than cry; I will drop to my knees and scratch lines of blood into my cheeks so my tears run as red as my bleeding heart. For Azula, I bet there's a satisfaction to observing raw, ugly helplessness. I won't give her that pleasure.

"Why not let him enter the Avatar State and kill him?" The words are out of my throat before I can trap and keep them down. I need to know because I don't understand. What's the use of this game when that was her plan down in the crystal catacombs, anyway?

Azula neatly links her hands at the small of her back. "He's useful alive, don't you think? And besides, he doesn't have to stay like this. He doesn't_ have_ to be our prisoner."

The void in my chest previous brimming with overwhelming anger sudden begins to flow, channeled into uncertainty. "What?" I ask, studying her pose and as she stands just a little taller.

"Your friend is very dear to you, isn't he? Is there anything you wouldn't do to free him?"

There is a difference between perceiving darkness and perceiving an absolute lack of visual input. For a moment I teeter on the knife-edge of unconsciousness from the implications of her question. Would she give me a chance to free Aang? "What do you want?" I stammer.

"Why don't we talk somewhere more . . . private." Without waiting for an answer, probably because she already knows the only possible reply, she leads the way out of the prison cell. I glance back at Aang just once, looking back at the crumpled body in its dim corner, and I know. I know I will do nearly anything.

But what if she asks something that Aang would not want me to do?

Until I know for sure, I can do nothing more than follow Azula back through the winding halls of the palace until we reach her room. We enter the space filled only with guttered candlelight from one small flame on her nightstand. Something else steps in behind us, a breathless sense of foreboding that accompanies the moment in which one's soul is ripped from the body. I suspect that is precisely what is about to happen to my own.

"What do you want?" I ask again. My voice seems incapable of producing any other words until I get an answer to those.

There is a dreamlike quality to Azula's shadowed body as she turns around and holds out a hand into the translucent darkness between us. Every fragment of my coherence orients itself to that gesture. There is only a very small distance between us, and for a moment I think she wants me to shake her hand. Then I realize her palm is not empty. It contains a very small vial, the very object she was rolling in the cusp of her palm when I first entered the room.

"Do you know what this is, Katara?"

There's some kind of clear liquid sloshing gently in the container. My mind immediately leaps to the only recent place where I've seen such a substance. "The drug you use on Aang?"

"It _is _a drug, but not that one," she says. "It's calibrated in a way that, if slipped into the drink of an adult male of a certain weight, it will lull him into sleep for approximately a single hour."

"And you want me to give it to someone," I say, following her line of logic.

Azula smiles in her typical calculating manner. No need to be subtle when we both understand how things work between two people when one is a prisoner and the other holds all the advantage.

"Why me?" I ask, probing for the catch. "You've got servants who'll lay their lives down for you. Why go through the trouble of making a deal with me?"

"My servants are very loyal, but their loyalty has boundaries," Azula explains. She's no longer fully looking at me, instead focusing on a point just above my head. "My orders are absolute unless they conflict with a higher power. I am only a princess, after all."

"But who's more powerful than . . ."

My mouth remains open of its own accord, but words no longer pass through. My throat constricts as I back up, suddenly connecting the information she already presented and following it to the one logical conclusion.

"Why?" It's the only word I can muster.

"Because there is something he keeps on his person at all times, tucked away in the inner folds of his robes in a pocket just over the heart. I need you to get it for me."

"What happens when I do?"

"I set you and the Avatar free," she says simply.

"That's not my question," I press, but the unyielding smile on her face lets me know that this is not something I am allowed to know. If I plan to agree, I'll have to do so on a leap of faith without knowing what she plans to do with the object I'm supposed to get. I had been breathing heavily, but in this moment I cease to breathe at all. I bring up my trembling hand as support for my face. "And what is _it_, exactly?" I go on, trying to get out any kind of information.

"If you agree, I guess you'll find out."

"And how do you expect me to pull this off?"

Her hands calmly hang at her sides. "You're a clever girl. Once I arrange for a better position from which you can act, I'm sure you'll take advantage of some window of opportunity."

There is something obscuring my vision. Only gradually do I come to understand that this is tears, and that they are in my eyes. "If I do this, you'll let Aang go?"

"Yes," she says. "I will let you both go and guarantee your safe passage out of the Fire Nation."

The floor seems to soften beneath my feet. I brace myself against the nearest wall and slide down slowly, attempting to grasp the immensity of her offer. _I will let you both go_. Neither of us has to die in this place, but the risk my part of the bargain entails . . .

Thinking that, I already know my answer. Aang would give his life for me without hesitation. I will risk anything, everything, to set him free. There's only one more thing I have to know. "Why me?" A whisper of naked pain.

"Because for some reason, my aging fool of a father seems to welcome your company in privacy. Even when we speak, he keeps his guards around. You have a rare, unique privilege for a reason apparently neither of us understands. We'll simply have to accept it and work with what we do know."

I suddenly feel so dizzy and tired. Nodding is the only response I can manage.

"So," she says. "Have we got a deal?"

I wipe away a single hot streak from my left cheek. Azula is gazing down almost kindly upon me, a rare moment of what seems like genuine tenderness. She can probably see me trembling as I stand on the treacherous brink of sealing a deal with a monster like herself. But isn't there a reason why the enemy of your enemy is called your friend? And sometimes when you stand on an edge like that, you simply have to take a leap forward and trust in fate to guide you. The spirits must have brought me here for a reason. For a chance at freeing Aang, I'm willing to find out why. And worse case scenario, it's not like I'd be hurting anyone I care about.

"I'll do it," I say.

"Good. In that case, I'll send Father a request to let him know you wish to see him. While I'm away, Mai will explain what you are to do."

"Mai?" I ask, but Azula has already gone through the double doors and slammed them shut. A dense patch of darkness along the far wall stirs, and only now I do I realize that the knife-thrower was watching us from the shadows all along.

She unsticks from the wall and crosses the room to stand above me. "You should probably get up," she says. It's an order disguised via suggestion. I get up slowly so we're on eye level. Only then does she say, "You're a fool, you know."

I close my eyes. "Are you supposed to give me instructions?"

She sighs, but there is something more than boredom in the quality of her heaved breath. "The first one is that making deals with Azula is dangerous."

We both know that I can't change my mind. "Just tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"When Azula comes back, you'll go to a meeting with the Fire Lord. You'll have to convince him to accept you as his servant. He'll refuse, but you'll have to insist. Come up with any reason. If you're in his service, you can get close to him."

My head doesn't stop nodding as she speaks, though only a very small part of my mind is present. The remainder of my conscious is suspending in a distance place, halfway between an opposite shore and a hopeless plummet to sharp stones below. I am a leaf, one that can either be swept to safety or to death. I hold on to the hope that the spirits will send a wind to carry me home rather than let me be tossed among the rocks.

"Katara?"

I focus on a very interesting pattern of stones on the floor and say nothing.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," I say.

She lays the pressure on her fingers on my wrist. "For what it's worth, Azula looks down on waterbenders for your flaw of compassion. But I think I can see what Zuko sees in you. You have a reverence for life. You'd probably even help me if I were in real danger. You'd probably even help Azula."

I look up so our eyes meet. In this quiet moment, she's not entirely what I expected. "You and Zuko have been talking about me?"

"He really loves you, you know."

A real edge of anger punctuates my tone as I remember the moment when she, Azula, and Ty Lee cornered me in an alley before trapping me in the crystal catacombs. "Seems like he cares for you, too. Especially since you two were apparently hanging out in Ba Sing Se."

"We never spoke. Not directly," she says, guessing at my nature line of thought. "I followed him at Azula's orders and reported back on his activities. Zuko deserves no blame. If you want to hate someone, you can hate me. I don't mind." Her hand does not leave my wrist as she speaks, a hand warm with as much compassion as she claims my own heart holds. "But I think you would know better than anyone that when your friends need you, you'll do anything to help them."

I suddenly remember Zuko writhing in the horror of his agony at having done something to Tayla. I grab Mai's shirt, desperate for an answer. If she's being so generous with sharing secrets, maybe she can tell me what happened with that little girl—

A creak of the door handle. I let go and Mai steps back, establishing an appropriate distance. Azula comes in, beaming as before. "So," she says, glancing down at my huddled body. "Ready to go? Father has agreed to see you."

I look back at Mai as I follow Azula outside. Mai stands there so quietly, always withdrawn in Azula's presence. But maybe there is more she can tell me if I can find a way to get her alone. She seemed willing to talk in isolation, possibly because of our shared friendship with Zuko. Well, that's something to focus on later. For now, there is the matter of my own life, and of Aang's, and of the precious object I am to steal for a purpose I know nothing of.

Azula brings me to the familiar firelight curtain drawn over the throne room entrance. "You understand what you're supposed to do?" she asks.

"Yes." I study the curtain carefully, memorizing the calming way in which it sways.

"Good luck." Her smile is that of a hunter who has cornered a very small animal, as of course she has. For Aang's sake, what other choice do I have but to obey? All I know is whatever the future holds, I'll find the path back to freedom no matter how I may suffer along the road. Standing at the very brink of opportunity isn't the time to turn back. And I don't.

I move forward into the throne room, shedding fear in favor of unbendable courage.

_A/N: Hey, at least it was some kind of update (says LadyAvatar as she huddles in a dark corner of her room, trembling in fear of disappointing you guys after two months of no updates). If you want to talk to me about it, leave a review or check out my new tumblr url {ladygreedling dot tumblr dot com}. My ask box is open to your comments! Lastly, here's an appropriate song for the occasion (from Azula's perspective). Now, 'till next time!_

_You poor unfortunate soul__  
__It's sad but true__  
__If you want to save the Avatar, my sweet__  
__You've got the pay the toll__  
__Take a gulp and take a breath__  
__And go ahead and sign the scroll__  
__Mai, Ty Lee, now I've got her, girls__  
__The boss is on a roll__  
__This poor unfortunate soul!_


	38. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 7

_A/N: Apologies in advance for a short chapter that serves to transition into the next major arc of the story. I don't know if I'm entirely pleased with how this turned out, but I'll leave that up to you to decide. At least we're finally getting some more Zutara here . . . as well as something you've been awaiting for quite some time. You'll see~_

To stand in the shadows of a powerful Fire Lord is to walk in the memory of past generations who commanded the throne room, each ruler leaving black scars on the earth. I bow my head as if in reverence. Really, it is to conceal my fear. But for once, the Fire Lord does not await my arrival behind a curtain of fire. He watches my approach from this side of the grate. The flames behind him burn low, nearly extinguished. There is just enough light by which to see the gold rings of his irises follow my advance until we stand no more than a few meters apart.

"For a prisoner and a peasant, you seem to consider yourself highly privileged."

I try to string together words that sound respectfully formal. "I presume nothing of the kind." The carefully constructed language sound so foreign on my tongue. I try not to meet his eyes.

"You do not kneel?"

There's more question than command in his tone, as if I'm some curiosity he's still trying to decipher. My right knee hits the ground. I watch the floor closely. How it shines in the dim firelight.

"Would you care to explain your recent behavior?"

I can almost see my eyes reflected in the floor. My own gaze makes me sad. "What behavior?" I ask.

"Regarding my daughter's request on your behalf. She claims you have grown tired of my son's company and now seek mine out instead. What makes you believe you're worthy of my presence, even if through servitude?"

_Worthy_ of his presence? He should be glad that there are people who are forced into his so-called precious _presence _at all. If it weren't for Aang and the sacred promise of our friendship, if it weren't for the fate of the world resting on the Avatar's freedom, I—but such thoughts will get me nowhere except to a darker place of anger I may not be able to hide. "I, uh . . . I'm technically a servant," I say slowly, trying to come up with any logical reason for why I'd want a transfer. "But, uh . . . I haven't really done much servant work yet. I think traveling together kind of made your son pity me. I think you'd be better at actually making me work." That sounds reasonable enough, doesn't it? I glance up to see the effect of my suggestion.

To say that the Fire Lord seems amused is to not quite capture the nauseating quality of his smirk. "You would have me believe that you're seeking a way out of indolence? You are more foolish than I imagined if you have decided to begin your petition with such a blatant lie. My servants must be absolutely trustworthy. You have already given me every reason to understand you're a liar. Now you make it worse."

"When have I lied to you?"

His fingers trail along his beard. "I recall an instance in which I requested information regarding your betrothal necklace. You would not even properly answer when I asked you something as simple as that. Why should I believe you will act differently regarding more urgent and relevant matters? My closest servants often have privileged access to great secrets of my royal court."

"The necklace was personal," I defend. "Don't assume I can't tell the difference between my obligations in duty and my right to keep things private."

"Servants should keep no secrets. If you are unwilling to share a personal thing that is so small, I'm afraid we have nothing more to discuss and you should return to your obligations to my son. Unless you have changed your mind regarding what you wish to share of your history?"

I fish around for any way to defend my right to keep this knowledge, but there is no way around the fact that he will refuse to grant my request unless I grant his in turn. There's nothing unreasonable about wanting honest servants, either. There's no escaping what I have to do for the sake of my deal with Azula.

"It belonged to my grandmother, okay?"

As soon as words are out, my hand goes to my mouth as if the syllables were birds I could trap somehow with my fingers and hide back in my throat. But they're out in the open now, no longer only mine but a thing we share between us. The subtle nod of his head conveys that the Fire Lord heard the spoken truth.

"Ah, much better. Now we are getting somewhere," he says, observing me calmly.

"Can I ask why you care?" He owes me at least that much.

The Fire Lord turns away so I can no longer study his face. "I was simply curious if it's true that your betrothal necklace was crafted by the waterbender Pakku for his arranged wife, your grandmother Kanna."

There is such stillness in the room that I can hear the softness of our breathing, nothing more. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. How? _How can he possibly know that?_ ButI conceal my fear with a strained smile. "Yeah. That's right."

He looks at me curiously, almost as if he's just as surprised to learn this is the real truth. "My son mentioned it was the only memento you have left of your deceased mother."

"You asked Zuko about it?" But Zuko doesn't know the history of that necklace. He only knows it belonged to my mother. Even he doesn't know who owned it before then.

"That's all my son told me about it," the Fire Lord says as if guessing at my unspoken question. "The other information came from . . . elsewhere. You forget my position in this nation. I have surveillance everywhere. I know more about the world than you imagine."

His eyes are heavy with some meaning I can't decipher. It's partially friendly, that gaze he levels at me, but partially threatening in some intimate way—as if he recognizes me.

"Now, I will ask only one more time. Why do you actually want to be my servant?"

To stand in the shadows of a powerful Fire Lord is frightening enough, but to kneel in his darkness is to have your hair fall forward over your shoulders while you tremble with fear and disgust. He circles you, coming closer with each pass, as if chasing something just out of reach. Maybe there is something about people of other nations that is too bright: he will show me. He will hurt me for the light I carry. Each heavy footstep is a warning, but I can't obey. I cherish Aang more than I fear the Fire Lord. Aang was meant to save the world, and I will save him, I think.

"The only people who know about that necklace are dead or back home in the Water Tribes," I tell him truthfully. "Maybe if I'm your servant, you'll tell me how you know about my family. And why you care to know."

The Fire Lord stops pacing around me. Heat collects in the creases of my skin, in the soft places of my body, because my heart is afraid again. Will he burn me as he once burned his own son? My mouth is dry but even my own tongue can't wet my lips. I have no spit left. There is no water anyway in this place of hell.

"Wait here," he orders. And then he quietly walks away, through the firelight curtain and out of the room, leaving me entirely alone. For the first time in minutes, I breathe. Then I laugh softly and the sound is liquid. I laugh because this entire situation is nothing but madness, me forced to serve the Fire Lord in order to steal some precious secret for a princess who no doubt remains my enemy. I wonder how far down the line of insanity you have to be in order to laugh in the face of such danger.

The rustle of the curtain again makes me turn. The Fire Lord has returned, this time carrying a teapot and two cups. I'm still kneeling, and to my surprise he kneels across from me and sets the pot between us. He pours two cups and sets one down for me. "I have instructed my servants to call my son here. For now, we will enjoy this tea."

My mouth opens and speaks before I can stop it. "Ginseng?" I ask. "Or jasmine?" My forwardness comes from the shock of having the most dangerous man in the world offer something as ordinary as a harmless beverage.

The Fire Lord takes a sip. "Why do you limit the choices to only those two kinds? There are many other tea flavors."

I don't entirely think I know why, but some memory of mine has associated this man with those two flavors. "Am I wrong?"

A pause. "Jasmine," he says at last. The word seems to take a long time to work its way to his throat.

I sit there trying to remember how I could have known that. He sits there watching me, sipping tea. A strange, thick feeling is returning to me. I don't touch the tea. I don't feel I can swallow when I'm feeling light-headed again. I feel like I'm on the verge of uncovering something, and all I can think is how much I need to reach for something to steady myself. I place both hands on the floor. Earth is always sturdy. I need it now, just like our team needed Toph to stand strong together at times.

I think about the tea flavors, and I remember something about a box . . .

"Father?" The Fire Lord and I both look up. Zuko is standing at the intersection of fabric and doorway, exactly halfway through the curtain. He blinks. "You . . . summoned me," he says carefully, looking between us.

The Fire Lord sets down his cup. "Beginning tomorrow morning, this servant will be transferred to the ranks of my own men."

Zuko looks at his father, and he tries to smile, but I think his mind is on the fact that the Fire Lord and I are drinking tea and that I refuse to fully meet his eyes. "May I ask why?"

"Because I have decided so," he says, nothing more. No mention that it was at my own request. "Now, you may take your servant away for the remainder of the evening. Len shall collect her in the morning."

Zuko doesn't open his mouth, but his hands gather into fists. I believe each of our hearts has a small ledge it can stand on, and right now I think his heart is leaning out and looking over the edge. I almost wish he would say something that could save me from this, but then I remember it's my own choice. This moment is a consequence of all my other decisions. What can Zuko do but shrug his shoulders slightly, saying he understood it was over and done with.

"Yes, Father," he says. "Katara, please stand and come with me."

I follow my friend out of the throne room without glancing back. I try to not open my mouth because I know sobs or confessions will come from it, and I'm not entirely sure Azula has given me permission tell anyone about our deal. After a moment, I do speak. I can't hold in everything. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"Back to where I was before I was called here."

I nod. What else can I do? Besides, my body is cracking with need to be beside him for the next few hours. Who knows what will happen when the Fire Lord is free to command me however he sees fit? For now, I focus on where my friend is leading me. I quickly recognize the path to the garden where Len secretly took me earlier this morning. Strange how even though only a few hours have passed, it seems like I spun years away from that moment when I watched the Fire Lord feeding ducklings by the water.

At the top of the stairs leading down to the garden, Zuko takes my hand. We keep walking, going down the steps without speaking. I didn't realize how late it was, but evening is slowly drawing on. Small insects fill the night air with their chirping songs. The water of the turtle duck pond seems so shiny in the darkness. Small pockets of light move across the rippling surface. Reflections of moonlight from the sliver moving slowly through the black sky. We pause by the water. I realize we're still holding hands. His fingers tighten around mine. The touch says _hold on to me. _And I do. I always will.

"I'm sorry about my father," he says.

I just stare into the shining, moving water. "Can we please talk about something else?"

My friend sighs. "Have you ever fed ducklings?" he asks after a pause. I think we both need to change the subject.

"Not turtle ducks."

Zuko finally lets my hand go. He sits beside the water with his legs crossed. "Would you like to learn?" I nod and sit down beside him. He pulls out bread from a pocket of his robes and hands me some. "You can't just throw it in. My mother taught me a trick once," he explains. "You dip a finger in the water to start some ripples. That gets their attention. Then you hold out the bread and they come over."

He replicates the exact gesture with his hand that I saw his father making earlier. I echo the motion. Where I touch the pond surface with my fingertip, the cold whisper of water chills my skin. I open my hand, crumble bread into my palm, and wait. One small duckling starts to swim over. Its mother follows close behind and quacks a warning. The duckling stops. They both watch me carefully. These turtle ducks are used to humans, but I'm new here. They're unfamiliar with my hand. Or they're wary of something.

"You're too nervous," Zuko says. "Here."

He scoops my trembling hand into his own to steady it. I'm holding the crumbs, and he's holding my hand, and so it's like we're offering the bread as one person. The mother duck swims up and picks a few morsels out of my palm. She darts away and waits. When I don't attack her, she quacks and the baby swims up to collect bread in its beak.

Zuko lets go of my hand. "Looks like they like you."

I grin. "Thanks to you."

"They're not the only ones who do." Even in the darkness, the blush on his cheeks is unmistakable. I sense yet another subject change towards a direction I'm quite willing to follow.

I close my hand into a loose fist and look as far into his eyes as I can see. "I've wanted to ask you something for a few days. About that."

He looks away and stares at the water. "Which is?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

"I've never lied to you," Zuko says. "Not on purpose."

I open my hand and look down at the palm lines as if they could give me some kind of answer. "When you said you love me . . ."

"You said it, too."

"I said I _loved_ you."

"So . . . do you?" he asks. "Do you still?"

Now we're looking at each other, and we're both red as beets. This time words are working against _me_. I can't look at his face and give him an answer. And I think he understands this.

"I have an idea," Zuko says. "Close your eyes. I promise—I swear on whatever honor I have left—that I won't do anything you don't want. I _promise_."

And I believe him. I believe him with my whole heart.

"Keep your eyes closed when I ask you a question. Answer by holding up your fingers. One for _no_, two for _yes_. Okay?"

I nod. Just the once.

"All I need is for you to answer with the absolute truth."

"Okay," I agree. "What is it?"

"Do you . . . love me? Do you actually love me?"

I'm glad he asked me to close my eyes because I'm scared of the answer my fingers will give him. I don't dare open my eyes until I feel the touch of his breath on my lips. And even then I force them to stay closed, to simply let his mouth press down on mine. It is the gentlest kiss in the world, like a breath on my lips, but there is restrained hunger in how his mouth tastes my own. Barely restrained, but he doesn't push his tongue against my teeth. Either he knows I'm not ready or he, like me, understands that kissing involves more than the mouth.

Our kiss involves a cold night when we carried his uncle to a stream and helped warm Iroh in the water, truly working together for the very first time in our lives. It involves my makeshift wooden swords locked against Zuko's own in the pink pre-dawn hours, the smell of dirt and sweat settling on our skin, and our quick breathing vibrating the air while we trained. In Ba Sing Se we tried to act casual as we danced around each other's presence, circling each other's light and trying to catch it on our faces. Right up until the moment when I tried to kiss him in the restaurant when that wasn't a kiss. Not a real one. Not like this one. Not like this one at all.

This kiss is Zuko's mouth on my mouth, but really it's one thousand tiny fragments of the things called fate and destiny channeled into a single focal point. It's the beginning of something that only a moment ago was entirely out of reach. Our kiss is friendship catching fire, and friendship catching fire is love, and love is fulfillment beyond which we don't have to demand anything more in those moments when we're together.

I only open my eyes when he pulls back and the kiss is over. In the newly reformed space between our bodies, my hand is still raised with a pair of outstretched fingers. Two fingers meaning _yes, I love you_. As I have now for some time.

He looks at me with burning in his face, and I feel the beautiful ache in my body rushing to heat my skin. "If my father hurts you . . . well, he's not going to hurt you. I'm going to find a way out of this."

I press my head against his shoulder. The thought of maybe kissing him again breaks my heart with hope. "Come on, I'm tougher than that. Your father thinks he's a god, but I already believe in Aang. He's got no power over me."

Zuko kisses my hair and cradles me against his chest. My arms wrap tightly around him. I scoot so close that it's like I'm trying to crawl inside him for warmth. I want to kiss him again and not stop this time, but I don't kiss him because it's late and I'm so tired. I'd like to sleep out here with him. Not _with _him, but beside him. Something about two people lying together and only pressing platonically against each other seems even more intimate when we're both so frightened.

"Can we stay here?" I ask.

"Yeah. And, uh . . . I got you something." Zuko takes out a chain from his pocket, one with a gold pendent in the shape of the Fire Nation insignia on the end. He lowers it over my head. "So it's like I'm always with you, no matter what happens."

The small metal flame drops under my shirt. I wish there were something I could give back, but all I can leave behind is how my body feels resting against his as we lie facing each other in the grass.

To stand in the shadows of a powerful Fire Lord is to suffer, but that night I discover there is something even more painful in the world: an imminent sense of loss. To be in love with a sad and innocent boy is to feel his fingers in your hair and his nose brushing the tip of your own while you rest together in the darkness. I cover his hands with my own and we stay there without moving. We are so close now, but we are closer for the fact that I know what will happen in the morning. Len will come fetch and take me away, and then the distance between us will grow immeasurable. But until that moment, I hold on to what I have right now: Zuko holding me.

And all the while, the fire pendant he gave me dangles between my breasts. A small part of Zuko resting there, right alongside my heart.

_A/N: Was that transition into the Zutara scene too rushed? I don't even know anymore. Just in general, how many people are still actually keeping up with this story? Sometimes I feel like I'm writing for about ten people, which isn't bad at all, but I'm just curious if you guys are still enjoying this story as much as you did in the beginning or if the slow development is starting to be a turn-off. I also hope I did the first real Zutara kiss some justice. Feedback is love and motivation~_


	39. I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire: 8

_A/N: Yo, wut up my fabulous readers! Yesterday was my birthday (woo!), and I'm celebrating with something a bit unusual: five little preview teasers of conversations between Katara (_regular font_) and Ozai (_**bold font**_), one from each of the remaining parts of the saga. One trick: they're scrambled, so the order doesn't necessarily match the order these quotes will take place in the story. "/" indicates a scene break. Enjoy!_

"You're not coming with us."_________  
_**"Then the Avatar will die before nightfall."**

___/_

"Why did you come back?"_________  
_**"They have no right to decide your fate."**

/

"Don't you get it? This secret changes the world."_________  
_**"We can tell no one. We are now their sworn guardians."**

_______________/_

"There isn't one life your war hasn't hurt!"_____________________  
_**"Don't you understand? We have all lost something."**

/

"I didn't save your life for this!"_____________________  
_**"Now I repay my debt."**

I wake up to the feeling of warm fingertips on the skin of my neck. A clean sweep brings the hand to my jawline, resting so gently on the intersection of bone and flesh. Zuko's hand then travels to my shoulder to shake me. _Wake up_, he whispers. I know I should, but for a moment I cling on to the translucent place the mind rests in when you're half asleep. The quiet place where you can cling to both dreams and reality because you're halfway close to both but fully belong to neither yet. _Wake up_. The shaking is insistent, so finally I open my eyes. We look at each other. He puts his arms around me as I sit up and holds me in the soft pre-dawn darkness.

"Hello," he says shyly.

"Hi," I say.

It's the kind of conversation people have when words become superfluous, which makes me realize it wasn't a dream. We must have kissed last night after all, Zuko and I. A small part of me wonders if maybe I shouldn't have kissed him as suddenly as I did. When two people stand on the verge of separation, kissing might come not from love but a place of desperation. Or maybe desperation simply forces your hand into the open, revealing what is already there.

Only time will confess truth, so for now I don't think about this. What I think about is the noise of the royal garden. It's uncharacteristically loud. Or rather I'm just suddenly acutely aware of every insect chirp and the sounds of birds singing up in the trees and the water lapping the shore, a continuous din, swept up in the sounds of morning, caught up in them. The smell of the garden is the smell of flowers and dew still clinging to our bodies, the droplets of water on my eyelashes, the fine mist on his lips as he kisses my forehead. Day is beginning now with the rising sun, with nothing separating me from the boy I have cared about for so long.

Zuko tucks one arm beneath the crease of my knees and uses the other to support my back. He gathers me more tightly in his arms and lifts up, transferring me to lap. We sit perpendicular to one another.

"What are you—"

"Shh-shh," he says softly.

I consider pushing away, but he seems to be enjoying the moment. I decide to humor him, resting my head against his chest while one hand pauses on the hollow at the base of his throat. I can feel his heartbeat pulsing against my fingers, warm and reassuring.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"That was careless of us," I murmur absentmindedly without moving. I tilt my head back to look at him properly. "If your father were to come here and see us like this, or one of the servants . . ."

"Hey." He's speaking very quietly, very close to my lips. "I'm a prince. I'm allowed to have my way with servants."

"It was just a kiss." The bossiness is back in my voice, the spark that pushes against his fire. "Don't think you've won anything."

"I'll take whatever you'll offer, even if it's nothing else ever again." Zuko smiles. He kisses my forehead and keeps his mouth against my skin so I can feel his hot breath. "But I'll remember last night all my life."

"It was just a kiss," I say again, even though we both know it was more than just kissing. Zuko cradles the back of his hand against my cheek. His eyes are so full of hope. This is the beginning of two lives joined by a sacred promise, even if we were to never kiss again. Even if we parted now and didn't see each other for years and years and got married to other people, and had children with those people, I think one day I would come back to the Fire Nation to see him anyway. Or he would write me a letter to the Water Tribe. I would come into his private study and he would recognize my voice. Or I would look at his letter and know his writing even though I have never seen him write. I would simply _know_, just as he would know my voice even without turning around. _It's you_, he would say. _Hello_, I would tell him. We would both be nervous and scared, but he would turn around so we could see each other trembling. We wouldn't know what to say, not until we both suddenly said it. I would tell him everything was as before, and he would tell me that he still loved me. We would of course return to the people waiting for us back home, but we would never stop loving each other. That's the sacred promise of our kiss last night: eternal love, be it romantic or friendship.

"It's still early enough that the servants are asleep," Zuko says. "Len's supposed to get you, right? She'll be in the servant wing. Come on, I'll take you there before I have to be at a meeting. So she wouldn't go looking for you and yell at me later."

I roll my eyes. "You're always going to meetings." But I stand up with him and follow him towards the steps leading up to the palace. The shadows of trees are inky black in the cool darkness blanketing the garden.

"I'll try to come see you tonight," he says as we walk up the stairs.

"Whenever you can," I say, failing at keeping longing from my voice. It shouldn't be there when we haven't even parted yet.

"Len will keep you safe."

"She seems to have a lot of influence around here," I point out as we follow the winding halls. "She calls your father by his actual name. Just now you said she might yell at you, like she has that right. What makes her so special?"

We turn into the hallway leading directly to the servant wing. "She's not afraid of my father," Zuko admits. "She seems to be the only one. I think it's because he favors her and she knows it. Len's been around for a long time. Even when I was a child. Back before my mother left."

We pause at the entry doorway. I look at him. "Will you tell me her story some day?"

"My mother's?"

I reach out and touch his hand. "Yeah." My fingers linger on his wrist, trailing down until our fingers briefly intertwine.

"When you're safe again. Right now, focus on keeping on your toes. Be careful."

"Don't worry. I plan to," I tell him. We hook pinky fingers, the most binding of promises. The kind small children are taught can't be counteracted even by tricks like the crossing of fingers behind the back.

"Go." He gestures through the doorway.

I go down the long hall with branching doors. I've been here once before during the lunch with Len and Ty Lee. One of the doors is ajar, the one leading to the room where food is arranged on carts like last time. A few servants are already sitting on the pillows arranged along the walls, though most are still probably asleep or haven't returned from the night shift. I help myself to some rice noodles, ash banana bread, and tea. I'm halfway through the meal by the time a familiar servant shuffles through the door, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. After Len loads her plate, I wave her over.

She sits on the pillow beside me. "Someone's up pretty early."

"You told me yesterday I had to rise with the sun to be in time for breakfast," I mumble around a mouthful of noodles. "You're the one sleeping in."

"Yeah, real nice." She swipes a slice of bread off my plate. "See if I ever save you food again."

We eat in silence for a moment, listening to hush chat all around. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her watching me more closely than usual. She keeps glancing over. Glancing and staring.

"Ozai's put me in charge of your business," Len says at last, munching on a pastry. "Says you want to be worked harder. I'm supposed to set you up with mundane and meaningless tasks. His words, not mine." She studies me thoughtfully. "How'd you get yourself into that mess?"

If only there was a way to explain the particular nature of my predicament. "Long story," I say dismissively, hoping she'll let it slide.

Len narrows her eyes, the kind of gaze that lets me know she'd like to fish around for more information. She'd probably do it now, only this is the exact moment when Ty Lee comes to fetch me for my usual morning chi-blocking session. The whole while, Len just watches me while slowly taking bites of her food. The whole way en route to our first job of the day after breakfast, she keeps looking at me. I consider asking her what's going on, but haven't I learned that's the thing about truth: you don't know whether you want it or not until you have it, but once it's yours you can't get rid of it. Better to pretend nothing's up than get more deeply tangled into matters around here.

"Where are we going?" I ask instead, making small talk.

"You're with me today, and first thing on my list is cleaning up Ozai's room." She stops before a great pair of double doors. "Don't worry," she adds when I visibly tense. "I bet it's not what you expect."

She takes me into an antechamber further leading to a bed alcove, a room that could easily contain about half my home village. Most of the room is unused space aside from the bed itself, two nightstands, and a closed door leading off to other rooms or a closet. The four-poster bed is empty, meaning the Fire Lord himself must be off at some meeting or having a morning meal. I huff at the sight of it. All this waste for one bedroom.

A rag hits the side of my head. "Dust," Len says, pointing. "I'll get this side."

As I wipe down one of the nightstands, I realize she's right that this isn't exactly what I expected. It's just an ordinary room with exquisite bed covers and two pillows and some nightstands and a floor and walls and a ceiling. Despite being a monster, the Fire Lord hasn't turned this chamber into the dark lair of a beast. The windows even have shutters and blinds. Incoming light is divided into bars by the slats of the shutters, forming bright pools on the floor Len's currently polishing. I can hear birds somewhere outside, singing so loud that the air rings with their clamor.

I suddenly notice the top drawer of the nightstand is slightly ajar. It's kept open by a paper sticking out. I open it to poke the paper back inside but hesitate at the sight of something unexpected. I have no portraits of my family, no memories in ink or pencil of their faces but the ones I keep locked safely in my mind. But here there are a handful of sketches commissioned from royal artists. Each captures moments in time that, now that they're gone, are probably impossible to reproduce. I say this because the face of the man in each of them is not a face I can imagine on the Fire Lord who walks these halls today. There are two sketches in particular that catch my eyes. I glance over to make sure Len is still busy with the floor before lifting and inspecting each one in turn.

The first portrait shows a woman standing beside a man, both dressed regally. The woman's face is touched up by softly brushed makeup. Her feature remind me of Zuko's sister. The woman's hair is pinned up neatly and crowned by a fine flame headpiece. Oddly enough her eyes seem sad, even though her mouth is smiling. The man in the portrait gazes sideways at her. His goatee is still fairly short, and even his typical smirk is somewhat unfamiliar. It's too soft, too sincere. Something so tender doesn't belong on his face. It must just be an artist's creative license, which may explain why the woman's eyes are downcast even though she otherwise looks so happy. The artist may not have liked this couple, but then why make the man seem so kind?

I lift up the second portrait, carefully sketched with inks and paints onto thin paper. The scene is a man cradling an infant in his arms, a man with that same short goatee. The child is swaddled in a blanket, the father gazing down on his son. This artist must have been partial to faces and worked carefully on capturing expressions, especially in the counters around the eyes. The baby is sleeping in the portrait, his mouth halfway open as he snoozes with tiny hands clasped around folds of a blanket. His eyes are closed, so it's the Fire Lord's eyes I linger on—the eyes of the prince, I realize, for the headpiece in Ozai's hair is not yet the five-pronged one I'm familiar with. The artist traced out the gold contours and black lines of Ozai's gaze, finessing the detail and capturing minutia. Looking at those eyes, I can see a painted fire inside them. It's not the sort of cold fire I've seen in our interactions. Ozai's eyes in the portrait are like a hearth fire, the kind you can sit beside and count on to warm you up. There is a faint glaze over the eyes, a few smudged brush strokes. The effect is that of wet fire. Or perhaps the beginnings of tears.

"You done over there?" Len calls. She's already halfway to her feet. I drop the portrait back into the drawer and close it quickly.

"Yep," I say, bobbing my head and grinning too widely when she looks over. "Not a speck of dust left."

"Then let's go. We got a whole lot more to take care of."

As we leave I glance behind at the nightstand, wondering why the Fire Lord would keep such strange sketches among his personal things. Perhaps a reminder of a past that is already gone, stolen by the horrible marks he's left on the earth in the days since. That's the tendency of life. You can easily ruin everything if you're not careful with your choices. The legacy of his nation proves the Fire Lord's carelessness, certainly with the lives of those other than himself.

We spend the remainder of the day scrubbing down hallways and other rooms, stopping only for lunch in the early afternoon. Len speaks less than usual and keeps an odd distance. She doesn't let me out of her sight aside from a brief moment when she's called away. I'm left scrubbing down a stone floor in a hallway when I hear sudden footsteps approach. I don't look up, not even when there's a hand on my shoulder and a person kneeling beside me.

"Everything appears to be proceeding smoothly," Azula's cold voice says. No doubt she distracted Len with something in order to come speak to me in private.

I nod and keep scrubbing, pausing only when I feel her hand slip into my pocket. She leaves something small behind.

"Listen carefully," she goes on. "It's a diluted solution, one that will have little effect if taken in a small quantity. He needs to drink the majority for you to have one full hour."

I carefully wipe the rag around each stone, tracing out the scratchy outline through the rag with my fingertip. "Got it."

"That servant's been keeping close tabs on you," she says. "Be careful not to act suspicious."

My grip tightens on the rag. Could Len know something's up? The fear lingers long after Azula's gone and Len has returned. She has never been so silent, and the longer the day draws on the more often she glances at me with a gaze that is strangely distant.

"Hey, kid," she says after dinner. "Ozai wanted to see you tonight. You ready?"

"Do you know why?" I ask as she takes me to a set of doors I'm unfamiliar with.

She hesitates, then rests her hand on my shoulder. "You've got some nerve wanting to work for him. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"What's going on?"

"He'll tell you. You'll see."

She offers no further explanation as she pushes me inside a small study with only a desk on the far side of an otherwise empty room. The Fire Lord is sitting behind it, facing me. He glances up to note my entrance. I wait by the door and cross the room only when he calls me. I stop directly across where he sits so the wooden desk is between us. A single unoccupied chair waits on my side, but I don't sit it in. A cup of tea sits beside him on the desk, untouched but no longer steaming. One cold cup that must have been waiting there for some time. Several books are stacked alongside the teacup, accompanied by notes sticking out of the pages. My gaze lingers on a paper he's drafting a letter on. The Fire Lord's hand (all too conveniently) covers most of the page, leaving only a few lines of text exposed. Before I can make out the name it's addressed to, he turns the paper over and looks up.

"Delighted after your first day of proper servitude, peasant girl? Were you kept busy enough?" He waves his hand. A careless gesture that amounts to a flick of the wrist. "Stand over here."

I presume this to mean behind the desk. I don't entirely care to leave the safety of my present position, but I still have no bending while he could easily raze me down with a single blast of fire. It's this disconnect in power balance that slows my steps as I walk to stand at an angle behind him. I look at the stack of books and fix my thoughts on the top one, an unmarked red cover bound by a black spine, and pretend I'm alone and that he's not there at all.

"Why don't you tell me what you accomplished today," the Fire Lord says. He takes out a fresh sheet of paper and begins another letter. "And read this as I write it. Verify for grammar and spelling, if you're even literate."

There is such anger in my body, white and so hot I can taste it in my mouth, but I don't let it edge into my tone. "I can read just fine," I say quite calmly. I have to excuse his ignorance. A mightyFire Lord such as himself will never see me as anything but a peasant. Such rulers have their own preconceived notions on the divide between common and divine. What he doesn't realize yet is that his perfectly aligned world is already crumbling bit by bit, broken by the very peasants he looks down on. One day, some of those fragments will fall right on him.

For now, the unwitting Fire Lord concentrates on the paper. I concentrate on his hand on the paper. How it writes slowly in careful script.

"I asked you a question," he says, outlining a precise character on the page.

"Cleaned, mostly." He probably expects an honorific of some sort, such as _sir_. He'll have to tear it out of my throat because I won't give it freely.

"I see," he says. "Do you finally feel useful around the palace, as you wished?"

I nod, then realize he's looking down and doesn't see me nodding. "I do."

"You see? I can fulfill requests," he says, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the desk. "In that case, I have another question for you. Do you like tea? Because you accepted the jasmine tea I offered yesterday, but that doesn't mean you necessarily enjoy that choice of beverage."

"Sometimes," I reply noncommittally.

"Why don't you have some?" He nudges the cup on his desk.

No doubt there's poison in it or some other trick. "I'm fine, thank you."

The Fire Lord finally looks up, his gaze perfectly casual. He smirks in that special way I'm beginning to recognize, the smile that dares me to disobey and see what broken pieces my life amounts to in the aftermath. "I think you should have some. I insist."

I lose my concentration on his letter. The thin lines of cursive ink blur. I step back, an involuntary reaction. "Thank, but, uh, I'm not thirsty at all—"

"You seem nervous," he says, resting his forearm on the back of the chair. "Tea is quite calming. For all of the time you spent with my brother, he never taught you such a valuable lesson?"

"With all due respect," I say coolly, a phrase which on my tongue means he deserves none whatsoever, "you've stripped me of my bending and now I'm alone with you in a room. I think you can understand why I'd be worried."

The Fire Lord swirls the tea around in its cup. He takes a sip as he watches me. His mouth against the rim is still smirking. "A shame. You will never be comfortable in my presence, I see."

"It's conceivable," I say. I catch the slight dilation of his pupils and the momentary frown of his mouth against the cup.

"What?" he says.

"It's _conceivable_," I repeat, sounding out each syllable. "There's a mistake in the second line."

We both look down at the paper. All he's written so far are two sentences: _How many times have I written you letters I knew I would never send but needed to write anyway? It's conceivable that I might some day finish and send a single one, but for now I only wonder at your reaction to the contents." _

"See? There's problem with that character," I explain. I could have ended there, but I add: "For all your formal schooling, looks like I've picked up the important lessons." I'd be lying to say I don't feel a bit smug. Not to mention glad he seems distracted.

The Fire Lord stares at the sheet. He lifts it up by the corner and holds it above his palm. A few embers crawl up the page. Fire consumes the letter until it crumbles into scattered ashes on his desk. He dusts them off and stares at the brush that applied ink to paper.

"It appears your schooling did instruct you well," he says.

The Fire Lord folds his hands on the desk and stares at his fingers. He sits there without speaking, and suddenly it occurs to me that I don't actually know what this conversation is about at all. This entire talk seems strangely contrived, like he's leading me to some conclusion I'm missing.

"It's kind of late," I remind him. "If we're done here, can I be dismissed?"

"When you do one final thing for me."

"Which is?"

He leans down. I hear the sound of a drawer sliding open, and then he comes up with a bottle of a dark red liquid. "Will you join me for a drink?"

If I had that bottle in my hands he would be slumped over his desk in five minutes, but I am powerless in my present position. All I can do is stare back while the Fire Lord pours two glasses. I feel naked despite my clothes. The feeling comes from wondering whether he can see right through my pocket. Whether he suspects I have slipped my fingers out of sight to touch a glass vial and the transparent fluid within it.

"Thank you, but I'm fine," I say. "With your permission, I'm going to bed now." I turn around without waiting, a desire to run more powerful than my fear of his retribution. It is to my great surprise that he doesn't call for me at first, that he almost doesn't say anything at all while I attempt to walk out of the study.

"Servant," he says just as I grab the door handles.

"Yes," I say, accompanied by one hushed sigh of exasperation.

"I only wanted to say you've done wonderful work taking care of your grandmother's necklace."

Not this _again_. I turn halfway around to see him writing another letter from scratch. "You seem to really care about it," I say. I have to know why he keeps bringing it up.

"You are the one concerned with it," he says without looking up. "Aren't you glad your father kept it for you?"

It takes a full minute, sixty slowly heartbeats of time, to actually process what he's just said. "What did you say?" I ask.

"What did your father say when he gave you the necklace?" he says calmly, though the tone of his voice betrays that terrible smirk. "Ah, yes. _Now she always gets to be with you. Right here. Forever._"

The heat in the room is suddenly too much. I need to open every window because there's not a breath of air. But no, opening windows would not be enough. There wouldn't be enough air for me if I ran outside into the misty translucent light that follows rainfall. If I dropped to my knees by the turtle duck pond and watched the water lap the shore, recede, gather, return, while taking great gasping gulps of air, there would still not be enough.

"Who told you that?" I say. Who could know what happened in that lonely igloo with just my father and me? How could he know exactly what Hakoda said?

The Fire Lord pours two glasses of wine. "Why don't you have a drink and we'll chat?" Coming from him, the casual invitation sounds false and threatening. But what other choice do I have when he knows about moments so deeply personal that I've never even spoken of them to my own brother?

I cross the room slowly and sit down in the chair that's been prepared for me. I take the offered glass even though I don't plan to drink from it. All I'm aware of is this sudden realization: the Fire Lord and I have never actually spoken to each other, because everything he's said so far isn't the thing he's wanted to say to me since he looked at me that day in the throne room. I run my tongue over my lips. They're so dry, like dirt. I feel like I've been ushered onto a ship about to depart forever from the safe harbor I've know all my life, that I'm gazing one last time at the familiar shore. On a clear day, if you stand at the railing of a ship, you can watch the outline of your old life until it's swallowed up by the curve of the water. You can see it slowly sink until it's gone forever.

"Who told you that?" I echo, watching the fading shore.

The Fire Lord takes one long, slow sip. I look at him. I go on looking at him, even as my eyes shut. I can barely make out the limits of my body, like this body is suddenly unfinished, and is only complete when he speaks the very thing I should have understood the minute I looked at him in the throne room and knew exactly who he was.

"There were only two people in the igloo that night you received the necklace, and I have never met your father. So, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," the Fire Lord says as he swirls the wine. "Why don't you tell me: who has been confessing secrets, and how do you suppose this could have happened?"

I nod without speaking because I understand entirely what he means, only amazed how a handful of softly spoken words could make a person feel fully, irrevocably doomed.

_A/N: In case you haven't noticed, the eighth chapter of each part always includes some climactic event. In the first part, Iroh was captured. In the second part, Zuko was nearly killed. In the third part, Iroh was actually killed. In this fourth part, we have now discovered something key about Ozai and Katara—and of course, because I'm an evil troll, the chapter cuts off right at a particularly horrible cliffhanger before you get to hear their ensuing discussion. I'll now leave you with a teaser . . . of sorts. It's a song that underscores parallels in young Ozai and Katara's lives as I see it. If you have read my Ozai-centric oneshot "At the Heart of All Things," this song will make much more sense for his point of view (to be further explored throughout this narrative, obviously). How this song applies to Katara won't become clear until the final third of this saga. In the meantime, I'm off to devour birthday cake. 'Till next time, my soul friends~_

_____Grew up in a small town_  
_And when the rain would fall down_  
_I'd just stare out my window_  
_Dreaming of what could be_  
_And if I'd end up happy_  
I would pray

___Trying hard to reach out  
But when I'd try to speak out  
______Felt like no one could hear me_  
_Wanted to belong here_  
_But something felt so wrong here_  
I would pray  
I could breakaway 

_______I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly  
______Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye_  
_I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change_  
_And breakaway_  
Out of the darkness and into the sun  
But I won't forget the place I come from  
I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change  
_____And breakaway _  
_  
_


End file.
